


The Missing Snitch

by nerdgirlwalking



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Batwoman AU, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Shoot Week 2019
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-03-20 01:53:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18982801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdgirlwalking/pseuds/nerdgirlwalking
Summary: A cryptic mission. An urban legend giving out clues. A little breaking and entering. An impending gang war. A mysterious blonde with a bad attitude. And a perky psycho so extra she has two secret identities. Just another night in Gotham City.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So last Shoot Week, or the one before, someone requested Batwoman Shaw. I love me some Gotham City, and you all know I love me some Shoot AUs, so I started pulling this caper together. But sadly other stories (life, snacks, etc.), took over my brain and this tale got left half finished on my hard drive. Skip to this year and I was like "oh crap Shoot Week is almost here and I've got nothing." But then I remembered, "oh wait I still have that Batwoman thing" and figured what the hell better a late prompt fill than nothing at all right?  
> Any way I hope you all have fun with this one. Shaw isn't a Kate Kane clone and I tried to cram in as many Bat and Bat-adjacent Easter eggs as I could as a personal challenge. Its a multi-chapter, as another reason why this didn't get finished before is the fact that I am somehow incapable of keeping even simple plot ideas short.

 

“First, I’m going to beat the hell out of you. Then I’m going to call the cops to drag your ass back to Arkham. Then I’m going to beat the hell out of you again before they get here,” Sameen Shaw sneered to the woman standing in the middle of her apartment.

While it wasn’t known outside of a very specific, extremely small circle, the woman lounging about her living room like she was waiting for brunch was a dangerous criminal. Two of them actually. Shaw’s uninvited guest was known in criminal circles as the master hacker Root. Though Shaw was still trying to work out if it was all that criminal when she mainly stole from other criminals. Which led us to identity number two; when several of the families had sent men after the hacker who had pilfered millions from their coffers, they were met with Root’s enforcer the Phantasm. Shaw could count on the fingers of one hand the number of people, herself included, who knew that Phantasm and Root were one and the same. Though since Phantasm mainly only killed other bad guys, that technically made her sort of a vigilante, all be it a crazy one.

And honestly, Shaw couldn’t throw too many stones about the vigilante thing, seeing as she spent her nights dressing up like a bat.

She cracked her knuckles, the breaking and entering on the other hand…

“Now, now there’s no need for all that.” The intruder licked her lips, “At least that bit about the police.”

“That bit’s pretty essential,” Shaw growled. “Look, I know petty theft isn’t exactly your deal, but this qualifies as breaking and entering. I’m well within my rights to kick the crap out of your crazy ass before they haul you away.”

“And you know all about what classifies as a crime these days, don’t you Batwoman?”

“Wow they have you on some wicked meds over in Arkham.”

“Don’t be coy, Sweetie. I have it on the best authority that…”

“I don’t care what the little voices in your head say.”

“As ironically accurate as that little quip is, as I was saying, I have it on the highest authority that you’re her and even if I didn’t,” she gestured over towards the floor to ceiling bookcases that lined the far side of Shaw’s living room. “I trust my eyes.” The bookcases were open in the middle revealing a doorway. “Nice lair you’ve got there.”

No use in denying it further. A good chunk of Shaw’s working gear was stored in the apparently not-so-secret room behind the bookshelves. Somehow she doubted this woman would believe she was a highly committed collector of Batwoman memorabilia. “So what, you’re here to make a name for yourself again? Kill a bat?”

A criminal’s entire reputation could be made just by injuring one of them. If her uninvited guest actually killed her, not that Shaw would go down without a fight, she’d be able to rule the Gotham underground on reputation alone. Lesser hoods had tried to take potshots at Shaw and John Reese, the Batman, just in the hopes they could be able to say they were the one who killed the bat.

“Oh no. I don’t do that anymore.”

“Seriously?” She expected Shaw to believe that? Why the hell else would she be here? “Blackmail then?”

“No silly.” At Shaw’s blank face she elaborated, “It’s true. I’ve turned over a new leaf.” She smiled as if that explained everything.

“Weren’t you chilling in Arkham like five minutes ago?” Shaw hadn’t heard anything about an escape in the past week or so. She must have slipped out somehow in the past twenty-four hours. Shaw would have known about it otherwise. Her associates kept pretty good tabs on that sort of thing.

“Officially rehabilitated. Robin Farrow is a free and healthy woman. I have all the requisite paperwork from Arkham if you’d like to see it.”

Like that meant anything. If Shaw had a dollar for every time one of those idiots over at that so called asylum went and got themselves brainwashed into declaring one of the scumbags in that zoo sane... “You’d have a better shot at convincing me of your supposed sanity by flashing a collection of gum wrappers.”

“Hubba bubba or big league chew?” She laughed. Crazy had the nerve to laugh. “I really do feel better now. But you can feel free to confirm everything with the doctors.”

Right. “So Robin…”

“Oh god don’t,” she groaned. “I wouldn’t have chosen that name for obvious reasons.”

“Phantasm then?”

“Not when we’re having girl talk,” she chuckled. “You can call me…well whatever you want for the most part, but I prefer Root.”

“Whatever,” Shaw rolled her eyes. “So if you aren’t here to kill me…”

“Campfire girl promise,” Root held three fingers up in a salute.

Shaw pinched the bridge of her nose. “You can’t be serious.”

“Really?” Root lowered her hand with a pout, “I could have sworn you were a campfire girl.”

“You’re not after blackmail material.” Shaw paused for a moment in case Root wanted to interrupt again. When she remained blissfully silent, she continued, “And you’re not here to rob me or you wouldn’t have stuck around until I came home.” Another pause. “Then why are you here?”

“We have a mission.”

“Crazy say what?”

“Let me back up a bit.”

“More like a mile.”

“Before I was released, someone contacted me. Someone important.”

Shaw held up a hand. “If it was Elvis, Tupac, or Jesus, I don’t want to hear it.”

Root laughed, “I cannot believe people actually think you bats don’t have a sense of humor.”

“It’s hard to laugh when I’ve broken your jaw,” Shaw deadpanned.

“Excellent point,” Root quipped. “And no, it was none of those options, I’m not insane.”

Seriously? “Could’ve fooled me.”

Another peal of laughter. “She should have told me to team up with you ages ago.”

“Who?”

“Oracle.”

Wait, what? “I thought the Oracle was a myth.”

“Oh she’s quite real, I assure you.”

“She?”

“Let’s just say that She’s the boss and She has a mission for us.”

“If you hadn’t already noticed, I don’t do partners.” Sure she helped Reese out from time to time, but for the most part they had a mutual agreement to stay out of each other’s way.

“You did before. With, Mr. Cole was it?”

“How do you know that name?”

“Like I said, the Oracle told me so much about you. She thinks you do, in fact, do partners and that we should team up.”

“And so this new friend of yours just decided to tell you my private business?” Seemed like there was a lot of nosy busybody punching in Shaw’s future.

“Secrets don’t make friends, Sameen.” Root tilted her head, “She wants you to know that what I am saying is real. She wants me to work with you.”

“I’ll pass; trust issues.”

“You can trust what I’m telling you is true. How would I know about Cole otherwise?”

“I imagine I have a file somewhere. You’re a hacker.” Seemed simple enough to Shaw.

“I can tell you more. Like how about that time your father took you to see the Gotham Knights take on the Central City Lightning? I know what you’re thinking, that was all over the news. But they never mentioned how he took you to lunch at a food truck before the game so you could eat junk like normal kids, the sweatshirt he bought you...”

“Don’t talk about my father.”

“I’m only trying to…”

“Get out.” She was done with this.

“Shaw.”

“Now.”

Root held up her hands. “Please just consider our proposal.”

“Okay…No.”

Root seemed to deflate where she stood. “I’ll go for now.” She walked towards the front door. She stopped at the small table Shaw kept by the door, and placed a white card down. “If you change your mind, meet me there tomorrow after sundown.”

Shaw walked over to her bar and poured herself three fingers of whiskey. “Not a chance.”

When Shaw started on this path she really had been a solo act. She’d adopted the bat persona because there was already one idiot running around in the outfit, and as she wasn’t doing this for attention, she figured he could take the credit. She’d been operating in the city for a few months before Batman, contacted her for the first time. It had been an uneasy meeting to begin. He had laid it on thick with “my city this,” and “my reputation that.”

Even if Shaw hadn’t been busting the skulls of the worst of the worst just fine on her own, she had been a Marine and for a brief time a government operative, she was not the type you could intimidate easily. Toss in her Axis II and well, Shaw didn’t do scared, no matter how much the bat wanted to growl at her. Besides, those little angry eyebrows he had molded into his cowl, damn things just cracked her up.

She had no idea how anyone took him seriously with that grafted on to his head.

Eventually, they had agreed to stay out of each other’s way. That had worked quite well for about a year. Then John Reese, not the Batman, had shown up at her day job asking her for help. Someone had taken his boss (That’s right, the bat actually answered to someone). Reese needed Shaw’s help to get him back.

Coincidentally, that was also the first time Shaw had met the Phantasm.

Once that entire mess was settled, and much to Shaw’s disgust, Reese and his boss, Harold Finch, yes that Harold Finch (Thornhill Industries, Thornhill Charity Hospital, Thornhill Endowment for the Arts, etc. Harold Finch), sort of adopted her into their team.

Shaw was sure there were still secrets the men were keeping from her. But they did toss intel her way from time to time. A stray bit of gear here and there. And eventually they also clued her in to their secret lair.

Well, one of them anyway. Shaw was reasonably sure the crumbling old library near the narrows wasn’t their only belfry. But it was where her current target was most likely to be found.

Shaw heard a dog bark as she reached the top of the stairs and grinned. She knelt down as Bear, the boys’ Belgian malinois, bounded over to greet her. “Hey sexy.”

To be honest, she mainly kept coming back for the dog.

“Ms. Shaw,” Harold smiled at her from his workstation. “A little early for you to be out and about today.”

“I had that fundraiser at the animal shelter this afternoon.” She slipped the sunglasses from her face and hooked them in the point of the v in the collar of her black t-shirt. One way she distanced her day to day persona from her night time activities was with a steady stream of charity appearances. It worked for her on two fronts. First it kept her mother happy, as it reflected well on the family and their company. And secondly most people didn’t associate the goody-goody handing out cupcakes while their kids picked out puppies with the bad ass in black leather beating their mugger to a bloody pulp later that night.

“Oh yes. Did accounting send the check over?”

She nodded. “The Thornhill Trust passed along enough zeros to keep the shelter rolling in kibble for a year.”

“Excellent.”

Shaw stood up and made her way over to his workstation. Bear followed closely at her heels. “Where’s Reese?”

“Matt Hagan has created another of his doppelgangers.”

Shaw grimaced. She hated tangling with Clayface, mud got in all sorts of unfortunate places. “He need a hand?”

“Detective Carter is working with him. This one doesn’t appear to want to free the bulk of Mr. Hagan from Blackgate.”

“What’s it doing then?” Typically, the clones Clayface left throughout the city only served one purpose, break the rest of him out.

Finch pointed to one of the many screens that circled his workstation. A reporter from GNN was standing in front of a smashed marquee. “Holding the touring company of Jersey Boys hostage in the theatre district at the moment.”

“I would have gone for Hamilton.”

“Indeed.” He turned to face her. “What can I do for you today Ms. Shaw?”

“I need some intel.”

“By all means.”

“What do you know about Oracle?”

His eyes widened slightly behind his thick framed glasses. Anyone other than Shaw would have missed it. The question had surprised Finch. Interesting.

“I am aware that someone is using the code name, offering their services as an information broker for the vigilante set.” A little something, but by no means everything he knew, she’d wager.

“But what do you know?” Shaw pressed him.

“Has Oracle contacted you?” Finch countered.

“After a fashion.”

“Their intel can be trusted. Their sources are above reproach.”

“Sounds like you know the girl.”

“Curious.” He took a sip from the seemingly ever present tea cup by his side. “Why do you suggest this Oracle is female?”

Damn it. “Historical precedent?”

Finch seemed to take that explanation at face value. “True.” He set down the cup with a soft clink. “I do know the Oracle’s identity.”

Wait… “It’s not you, is it?”

“No.”

She figured that was a longshot since Oracle seemed to be working with Root, but still had to ask. There was something about his tone that still pricked at her though. “Well, you want to clue me in?”

He looked decidedly uncomfortable. “I’m not certain you would believe me if I told you.”

“Uh is it any weirder than the chick that can talk to plants, the dude that is literally half bat, or the sentient mud pie having a show tune sing along with John and Carter across town right now?”

“I see your point.”

“Then clue me in.”

“Very well,” he sighed. “The Batman was not my first attempt at forging a non-traditional solution to the crime plaguing this city. A former business partner and I worked in secret for years on a way to accurately predict human behavior.”

Shaw crossed her arms and leaned against the corner of the desk. “What like a psych study to better profiling methods or something?”

“Or something,” he drawled. “I created a program for an artificial intelligence.”

“You made a functioning AI?”

“More than.”

“You built a crime fighting robot?” Shaw cocked an eyebrow, “Other than John? Seriously?”

“Actually, The Machine’s purpose is to predict and prevent crime before it even happens.” He cleared his throat. “And an ASI is as to a robot as a match box toy is to a Ferrari.”

“I know. It was a figure of speech.” Just because Finch was typically the smartest guy in the room, didn’t make her an idiot. “I can do nerd remember?”

“I did not intend to condescend, Ms. Shaw.” That would be a first. “But medical science, even biomedical engineering, is a much different field.”

“Not saying I could do it myself, just that you don’t have to dumb the explanation down.”

“Then yes, I created a functioning ASI.”

“Seeing as you’re here, hanging out in a moldy library working with John, instead of sipping mai tais somewhere tropical and crime free, I’m going to guess something went pear-shaped?” 

“Once online, The Machine began to learn at an exponential rate. I designed it to detect acts of terror but it saw everything. The latest machinations of dueling crime syndicates, the mugger down the street, the VP of Finance skimming a bit from the company coffers. Everything. Every minute of every day. The Machine is always watching.”

“Sounds an awful lot like Big Brother.”

“I had many of the same concerns. But Nathan was always there reminding me of the benefits…” He trailed off for a moment lost in a memory. Bear whimpered and poked him in the side with his muzzle. It seemed to bring Finch back to the present.

He cleared his throat. “Eventually the government came calling. Wanted to use our system. Take the program nationally. We told them we’d consider it, but that we would not simply hand everything over to them without conditions.” He paused to take another sip from his teacup, “Then the ferry incident happened…”

Shaw nodded. Everyone in Gotham knew that story. It was why Finch walked with a limp to this day. If she remembered correctly his business partner died in that explosion.

“It changed everything. The repercussions of my work falling into the wrong hands, or even more alarming, my somehow unleashing a rogue AI upon the world, were too catastrophic for me to handle. After Nathan’s death I shelved any plans for expanding the project. Told the government in no uncertain terms that my line of AI research was permanently cancelled. Then I shackled The Machine, kept it from having too much power.”

“And that’s when you decided to go for a more direct approach,” Shaw surmised.

He nodded, “It took some time, but I do believe that Batman has made a difference in this city.”

She shrugged, not like she was going to argue that point. “So what does your machine have to do with Oracle?”

“I may have been overconfident in my ability to contain such a being.”

“Let me guess…”

“The Machine, I never completely shut it down.” He pointed to the monitors behind him. “You’ve worked with it before.”

“You’re kidding. The freaking Bat-Computer is alive?” Finch had been right, that was crazier than the plant lady, man-bat, and the mud guy all put together.

“Depends on your definition of alive,” he drawled. “And what you and Mr. Reese have dubbed the Bat-Computer employs merely a fraction of The Machine’s capabilities.”

“So you’re saying what, that the rest of your science project booted up one day and suddenly decided to freelance?”

“I designed The Machine to, for lack of a better term, want to help. There is a community of heroes outside of our small circle. I believe The Machine wished to do more to assist them and thus adopted the persona of Oracle.”

“Let me run this down, you made an AI and now that AI has grown up and decided to be tech support for vigilantes just like Daddy?”

He scowled at her over the rim of his teacup. “At times Ms. Shaw, your particular way with words is both confounding and astonishing in equal measure.”

“Right,” Shaw shook her head. “I guess that tells me everything I need to know.” Finch didn’t seem to want to argue that point. “I should probably head out. Check in at the office. Let me know if Reese needs any backup.”

“Ms. Shaw,” Finch called out when she was almost at the top of the stairs. She stopped to look back at him. “If the Machine is reaching out to you, then I can assure you that in the very least, the information it is providing is legitimate.”

She nodded. Which meant that the mission Root mentioned the night before was probably legitimate too.

Damn it.

Ten minutes after the sun set, Batwoman was landing on a rooftop of a non-descript apartment building near midtown. Phantasm was the one waiting for her. “I see you kept the Halloween costume.”

Root turned to face her. She was wearing a black bodysuit with a purposefully tattered gray cloak covering her from shoulders to mid thigh. The hood of said cloak was down, so that Shaw could see her smirk. “You’re one to talk.”

Touché. Shaw had come in her working gear after all. “I also see that you got rid of the hook hand. Too urban legend even for you?”

“Technically, it was a blade not a hook,” Root corrected. “I’m trying to do things a little less lethally. Kinder friendlier vigilante and all that.”

“Yeah, seems you’re a regular Casper these days.”

“Something a bit more adult.” She looked Shaw up and down, “And I find that generally, two hands are better than one.”

“Do we have a mission or not?”

“I knew you were more amenable to teaming up than you acted last night.”

“Look before we get into…whatever this is, I think we need to get clear on a few points.”

“I’m all ears.”

“This isn’t going to be a regular thing; I don’t do partners.”

Root frowned. “Because of what happened with Michael Cole? That wasn’t your fault, Sweetie. If you had been there they would have killed you too.”

“How about we don’t bring the what-ifs up?”

“Fine,” Root shrugged. “But he’s not the only partner you’ve had. I’ve seen it myself, you were there with the other one.”

“Excuse me?”

“Lurch, the less talkative of you bat-people. You were working with him the night he brought me in.”

“You had kidnapped Harold Finch.”

“Batman’s benefactor, yes.” Well son of a bitch. “Like I said, you were helping the butler out that night, when I took his boss for a little chat.”

Oh that was rich. “You kidnapped him and were holding a gun on him when we found you. Some chat.”

“My reputation had proceeded me to my detriment. I needed Harry to listen.”

“Most people would start with coffee.”

“Oh he hates the stuff. He much prefers green tea.”

An image of Finch sipping from a cup of tea that very afternoon flashed in Shaw’s head. Yeah, this Oracle stuff was apparently for real. That or Root’s stalker tendencies ran deeper than she previously thought.

“The Oracle trusts me, even if you don’t.”

“And what makes you think I trust it?”

“Her, Sweetie not it. And you do because she’s proven herself to you time and time again. Even if you didn’t know you were working with her at the time.” Root shrugged, “And I’m sure Harry filled you in on everything when you went to see him today.”

That explained why she had felt like she had a tail that afternoon. “Why me? If you know who they are, why not John or Finch?” She had kidnapped Finch in order to get his attention after all. Shaw pursed her lips, probably just answered her own question.

“She showed me your file, and I’m kind of a big fan.” She pointed at the bat emblem on Shaw’s chest. “No one would believe you’d wear that, because at first glance no one would think you’d have any reason to. You have everything; money, family, influence. You could have spent your entire life sitting on your ass and no one would bat an eye.”

“Not my style.”

“No, it’s not.” Root agreed. “And if anyone bothered to dig deeper they’d probably think you’d be the one fighting bats not wearing them.”

“You know…”

“About your supposed disorder?” She nodded, “It was an extensive file. There’s no little voice in there pushing you to do this, is there? None of that messy emotional baggage. The big lug is angry. Harry is guilty. This work is their penance.”

“You don’t think I’m angry?”

“I think you decided a long time ago for yourself what was right, and you’ve held fast to it. Medical school, the marines, that dalliance with ARGUS…” She trailed off as if concerned she’d set Shaw off again bringing that time up.

When Shaw remained silent, Root cleared her throat and continued, “you clearly have a code. I respect that.”

Just what Shaw needed. “You say Oracle has a mission for us. I’m told Oracle at least is for real. So I’ll play ball, for the mission. But the moment I think your intentions are less than genuine, I will lay you flat.”

“Oooh, can you do that anyway?”

“That ice you’re on is getting thinner.”

“Fine, business first.” Root reached back and pulled her hood over her head. When she looked at Shaw again her face was covered by a stylized rendition of a skull. “You’re a pragmatist. I can appreciate that.”

“I’d appreciate it if you got on with whatever it is we’re supposed to be doing.”

“There’s someone or something She wants us to find.”

“Can you vague that up some more?” She’d gotten less cryptic directives from the Riddler.

Root seemed totally unbothered though. “It’s fine, she gave me an address to begin with. All we have to do is follow the bouncing ball. It’ll be easy.”

“Are you sure you should be off your meds?”

She threw back her head and laughed. Given her current outfit, even Shaw could admit the image was disturbing. “We are going to have so much fun together.”

The address the Oracle had given Root was only four blocks away from where they started. It was another apartment building, this one had clearly seen better days, however. “7G,” Root directed.

They went in through the bedroom window. The room was dark and messy. Bed unmade. Laundry hamper filled to overflowing. They stood still for a moment once they were both inside and listened. The apartment was quiet.

“Doesn’t sound like anyone is home,” Shaw rumbled.

Root eased the bathroom door open with her foot and peered inside. “Clear.”

Shaw noticed a desk shoved into the corner opposite the window. She walked around the bed. There was a stack of mail on the desk. Shaw picked up an envelope. “Leon Tao,” She read aloud. She knew that name. “We’re here for Leon Tao?”

“Apparently,” Root replied now standing beside her. “You know the guy?”

“He’s a low level player.” What would he know that Harold’s super computer wouldn’t?

Root had her head tilted to the side as if listening to someone whispering in her ear. “And a snitch.” Seemed like Oracle was filling in the blanks. But why couldn’t the damn thing have done that to begin with?

Shaw nodded. “I’ve used him myself on a few cases.”

“I know.”

“Creeper.”

“No,” Root tapped her chest, “Phantasm, at least in this outfit.”

“If we make it through this thing without me ending you it’ll be a miracle.”

“You can end me all you want,” she quipped, “After we capture our snitch.”

Shaw rolled her eyes and pushed past her to go to the bedroom door. She stood still for a moment, her ear pressed to the wooden surface. After a beat she slowly turned the knob and stepped through the open door.

She was immediately in a small living area. She only had to turn her head a small fraction and she could see the entirety of the room. When she looked in the opposite direction, she could see into a miniscule kitchenette, which was also empty. “Clear,” she called as she moved towards the kitchen.

Shaw could hear Root moving into the living area as she examined the kitchen. “Dishes in the sink are attracting attention.” She waved away a stray fly. She turned and opened the fridge. Not much there. Couple of takeout cartons, jar of mustard, jug of milk. Leon must have skipped his grocery run. “Milk’s out of date.” She picked up a Styrofoam box and popped the lid. She slammed it back down with a grimace. “This takeout has definitely seen better days.”

“Plants in here are all dry,” Root called from the living room.

“Maybe he’s a shitty housekeeper.” Though even if that were true, Shaw didn’t think that was the only reason for the state of the apartment. Everything was too still.

“Or maybe he hasn’t been home in days,” Root countered. She appeared in the kitchen a moment later with a bright pink slip of paper in her hand. “Found this near the front door.” She handed it to Shaw.

“Notice from the super about a package waiting down stairs,” she noted. “It’s dated five days ago.”

“You know him better than me, is Mr. Tao one to take impromptu vacations?”

“No.” Shaw left the notice on the counter. “Come on. There’s someone who may be able to confirm it.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I mention the Penguin, I've got the look/voice of the BTAS version in my mind. Picture whatever version you like of course when you get to him, but just FYI.

 

It was known that Detective Lionel Fusco was a regular patron of a particular hotdog stand just on the edge of the narrows. Much to his cardiologist’s future chagrin, Fusco had stopped in for his regular Tuesday night double double chili bomb. “Just like clockwork,” Shaw smirked from an alleyway across from his parked, unmarked police-issue sedan.

She watched as the detective tipped the vendor and walked off. “He’s on his way back to the car. He’ll have to cross from this side of the street.” Shaw glanced over her shoulder at Root. “Maybe you should stay here.”

“Embarrassed to introduce me to your little friend?”

“I don’t have friends.”

“Then you won’t mind if I make the introductions myself.” She fiddled with something under her cloak.

“What are you…” Shaw coughed as smoke began to fill the alleyway.

Unfortunately for Fusco, he reached their position right as the smoke completely obscured them from view. “What the?” He grumbled around a mouthful of chili.

“Lionel Fusco.” Root had turned the stupid voice changer in her mask on. She sounded like an off brand James Earl Jones. Shaw rolled her eyes. Drama queen.

The theatrics appeared to make much more of an impression on Fusco. “Gah!” The hotdog went flying. 

“Your Angel of Death awaits…”

“Holy freaking hell.” Fusco drew his gun.

“Relax Lionel,” Shaw called out, stepping into view before he could pop off any rounds.

“Christ on a cracker, Lady-Bats.” He holstered his weapon. “What the hell was that?”

“The discount dinner show,” she deadpanned.

“No one appreciates style these days,” Root chided as she also stepped into view. She’d switched her voice changer off, now sounding like herself rather than the rumbling baritone she used a moment ago.

“You’re a chick?”

“Last I checked.” She turned to Shaw. “Batwoman, care to take a look under my shroud to confirm for the detective?”

“How about I choke you with it?”

“I’m game for both.”

Fusco looked between Shaw and Root. “Please tell me you brought her here so I could book her?”

“Unfortunately not,” Shaw sighed. “Let’s just say Phantasm is helping me with a case.”

He held up his hands, “I don’t think I want to know.”

That was probably for the best. “Where’s Carter? Heard she got to play in the mud this afternoon.”

“Yeah the lieutenant was not exactly overjoyed she stepped in that one. Despite what you freaks think we’re homicide, not the vigilante taskforce. She’s stuck babysitting a rookie detective named Allen tonight as her penance.”

“Crispus,” Root supplied.

“Yeah.” He nodded as if it wasn’t totally weird that she knew that. “Crispix Allen.”

“I thought detectives were supposed to be better about details?” She turned to Shaw, “no wonder this town is over run with vigilantes.”

Shaw snorted. Fusco looked between her and Root. “Wait, I’m sorry, but I think I do gotta ask. Didn’t the Blair Witch over there try to murder the mayor?”

“To be fair, he tried to murder me first. Neither of us were convicted of anything.” She shrugged, “And that was like four mayors ago.”

“Because the turnover in that position is what matters here, Elvira?” Apparently, Fusco had recovered some of his backbone. He looked over at Shaw, “You didn’t think you were scary enough on your own?”

“Aw you think I’m scary, Lionel?”

“I’ve seen you eat, you’re freaking terrifying.”

Root laughed.

Fusco recoiled at the sound. “Seriously, what is with her?”

“I’m helping.”

“Is there a Halloween parade for the criminally insane I’m missing out on?”

“Oh I’m not insane.”

“Well, she might be,” Shaw cut in. “But that’s not the point…”

“The point is we have a case,” Root countered. “Because I’m rehabilitated, officially.”

“You’re shitting me?”

“I have the papers and everything.”

“You ever hear of the Oracle?” Shaw asked, trying to move this conversation along.

“Like you freaks’ version of google? Yeah.”

“She works for her now.”

“Every time I think this town can’t get any weirder one of you flapping nut jobs takes it to a whole ‘nother level.” He ran his hands over his face. “You’re trying to tell me that the freaking Phantasm is a good guy now?”

“Well, good-ish.” Root tilted her head, “And as we previously discussed, definitely not a guy.”

“I can vouch for her at the moment. Just trust that I know what I’m doing.” Even if Shaw didn’t actually know what she was doing.

“And you wonder why we call you the scary one?” He sighed, “What do you need from me?”

Finally, they were getting to the actual point. “You see Leon Tao around lately?”

“Leon,” he scowled, “why?”

“We need to have a chat.”

“Look I don’t like the guy either, but I don’t think you should hand him over to Linda Blair there.”

“Are any of your references from this decade?”

“Phantasm, also not the point.”

She shrugged.

Shaw turned her attention back to Fusco. “Tao has apparently gone missing. When’s the last time you saw him?”

Fusco didn’t even have to think about it before answering. “Last week. He was knocking around the Iceberg when we went in to pick up Falcone’s boy Brayburn for that double on the east side.”

“Why the hell would Leon Tao go to the Iceberg Lounge? All the heavy hitters know he’s a snitch.” As far as she knew, he had been blacklisted ages ago. Even if he got past the bouncers, hanging around the lounge would be asking for a major ass kicking, if not worse. Nobody was that stupid.

“Apparently, he’d fallen in with a new crew.” Fusco rubbed the back of his neck. “These guys swing a big enough stick that even Cobblepot had to back down and let him in to set up some contacts.”

“Who in their right mind would hire a snitch to do their criminal networking?”

“Maybe someone who wanted a plausible reason for said snitch to disappear once his task was complete.” And there it was. Apparently, Root was thinking the same thing Shaw was. Gone for over a week, just after making some dangerous new friends? Leon Tao wasn’t just missing; he was most likely dead.

“There might be some brains in that house of horrors you call a head,” Fusco grumbled. “It’s no secret, lot of guys would like to do Tao in. Only reason they don’t is because they know he feeds information to the Bat and bumping him off would draw too much heat. If someone didn’t care about that little detail, it’d be easy to pin something on any one of the others.”

“Any idea on who his new backers are?”

He shook his head. “No clue. Wasn’t at the lounge for them. Frankly, I wouldn’t have even noticed Tao running around, if it wasn’t so weird for him to even be there. But I’m sure someone over at the Iceberg would know.”

Shaw glanced over at Root who nodded and slipped back into the alleyway.

“What no goodbye? Thought the Scooby Doo reject and I were getting somewhere,” Fusco grumbled.

“Really?” Shaw shook her head at him. Fusco was almost as crazy as the guys he busted.

“This don’t smell right to me.”

“You’re just down wind of the dumpsters.”

“Yeah, yeah. Make with the jokes.” He took a half step towards her. “Most people wouldn’t think Tao was worth risking a tangle with the bat. If these new guys ain’t scared of him…”

“They haven’t met me.”

“You’re plenty scary, but even you can’t outrun a bullet. Watch yourself.” 

“Thanks, Lionel.” Shaw turned to walk away.

“Hey Bats!”

She stopped walking.

He nodded to where Root had disappeared. “You sure it’s a good idea, running with that one? She ain’t all right in the head.”

“You act like you’re telling me something I don’t already know.” Shaw pulled her jump line from her belt and pointed it at the rooftop above. “Are you sure you didn’t get that badge out of a box of cereal?” She activated the line and shot up and into the air.

“And you owe me a hot dog!” Fusco shouted after her.

Root was waiting two buildings over. They watched in silence as Fusco climbed into his cruiser and drove away. “Your pet cop is a little protective.”

“It’s what happens when people like you, I’m told.” Though it took a special kind of stupid to think Shaw of all people needed protecting. You couldn’t miss the outfit. The body armor. The big red bat emblem. Clearly she was the one that did the protecting.

“It’s sweet.”

“More like a pain in my ass,” she grumbled. “So what’s our next move?”

Root reached up and lowered her hood. “You look thirsty. Wanna go grab a drink?”

The Iceberg lounge was the place to go for socialites who wished to take a walk on the wild side in Gotham. It’s proprietor, Oswald Cobblepot, aka The Penguin, took an immense amount of pride in that designation. It made it so much simpler to launder money for his friends, when dunderheaded trust fund heirs kept him flush with clean cash.

Allegedly, of course.

Shaw had never darkened the club’s door in her civilian guise for obvious reasons. “First time for everything,” she mumbled under her breath as she stepped out of her car and tossed the keys at the valet, who barely looked old enough to shave let alone drive. “You scratch it, I’ll feed your balls to the local wildlife.”

The kid paled and nodded.

With a smirk she strolled around to the passenger side of the car and opened the door. She held her hand out for Root. “Such a gentleman,” she cooed as she stood up.

Shaw leaned in close, “I’ll get you back for this.” She couldn’t believe she’d actually agreed to this cover.

“Looking forward to it.” The crowd waiting in line to get in to the building began to murmur in excitement as they recognized Shaw. “Seems like you have a fan club, Sweetie.”

“Great,” she groaned. A few camera flashes went off. Seemed like the paparazzi were hanging around tonight as well. Just great. Root leaned in and kissed Shaw on the cheek. Suddenly, it was like they were in the middle of a rave with the amount of flashes that little move instigated. Shaw was never going to hear the end of this from Lionel. She should have gone with her first instinct when Root brought up this stupid idea, punch the perky psycho in the face and haul her ass to the Library for Finch to deal with.

“Don’t worry,” Root whispered. “She says she’ll wipe any pictures of you from the net as soon as they try to upload them.”

“It can do that?”

“She.”

Shaw pursed her lips, “She can do that?”

Root took her by the elbow and began walking towards the doors. “I think you’ll find she can do almost anything.”

“Then why would she need you?”

“Ah you are a bright one.” Root smiled as the bouncer waved them through on sight. “There are still some physical practicalities she has yet to work around.”

“In other words she needs a henchman,” Shaw smirked. “Sort of a downgrade where you’re concerned.”

“We’re partners. I’m her Analogue Interface.”

“AKA fancy henchman.” Shaw caught their reflection in the glass of the next set of doors. At least Root’s boss had picked out something slightly decent. The dresses had been waiting for them at the garage where Shaw stored her car. She didn’t even want to know how the robot knew all of her measurements, let alone that they’d be needing dresses to begin with, but the little black dress did look damn good on her.

She glanced over at Root. Her dress was a bright blue. Cut short enough to make the woman’s long legs seem impossibly longer. Shaw swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. It got the job done she supposed.

Root caught her perusal and came to a stop just inside the second set of doors. “Like what you see, Sweetie?”

“Eh.”

“The glasses were a nice touch.” Root reached out and brushed her fingertips against the frames at Shaw’s temple. “Very non-threatening.”

“How threatening are they going to be when I shove them up your ass…”

Apparently, not very. Root tilted her head to the side completely unbothered by Shaw’s threat. “Is it just me or are you shorter?”

“You’re wearing ridiculous heels,” Shaw scoffed.

Root made a show of looking at her own feet. “No, that’s not it.” She took a half step closer to Shaw. “These heels are bordering on what one would call practical.” She nodded to the ground, “And they match yours.”

“There are lifts in my work boots.”

“You’re adorable.”

“Again, how adorable am I gonna be when I break my foot off in your ass?”

“All this ass talk,” Root shook her head as she wrapped an arm around Shaw’s waist. She leaned in until she was practically speaking into Shaw’s mouth. “Buy a gal a drink first, Sweetie.”

“What are you…”

“And who is this that comes a knocking on my chamber door?”

“Ozzie!”

Oh. That explained it.

Oswald Cobblepot was waddling towards them. “Root! Why my dear we thought you were dead.” So much for doing things low key. At least he seemed happy to see them.

Root released her as she smiled brightly at the odd little birdish man. “Please, I’ve just been a bit, indisposed, lately.” She leaned down to give the much shorter man a brief hug.

“I can see that.” Cobblepot smiled as he released her. He turned and held a hand out to Shaw. “Ms. Shaw it is an honor to have you grace my humble establishment.”

Was he seriously rocking an ascot? And a monocle? And he wanted people to believe he wasn’t a practicing member of Arkham’s revolving freakshow anymore? Seriously? Shaw gave him a weak handshake and an even weaker smile. “I’ve heard…things about the place.”

Cobblepot threw back his head and laughed…or squawked. Squaw-laughed. It was slightly creepy whatever it was. “I am certain you have my dear.”

“Don’t worry, Ozzie,” Root interjected, “I’ve been talking the place up.”

He clapped his hands. “Egret. Clear our finest table, we must welcome Root home and put our best foot forward for Ms. Shaw. Jay. Bring a bottle of the house champagne.” Two tuxedo-clad hostesses scrambled to do his bidding. He smiled at Shaw. “My complements of course.”

“Thanks.”

“Certainly, any friend of Root’s is a friend of mine.” He sketched out a brief bow. “May I escort you to your table?”

Of all the pretentious crap… Shaw fought not to roll her eyes.

“Oh she’s much more than a friend.” Root looped her arm back around Shaw’s waist and nodded for Cobblepot to lead the way.

“Indeed,” he chuckled and toddled off towards the dining area.

“I will end you,” Shaw hissed under her breath.

“Mind on the mission, Sweetie.”

“I can multitask.”

“After dinner then,” Root quipped as she nudged Shaw forward.

The pair wound their way between tables. The dining room was shaped like an over-sized horseshoe. Rows of round tables covered in crisp, white linens bracketed one side of a large pool in the center of the room. The center of that housed the club’s namesake; a large iceberg complete with a colony of puffins.

A small orchestra was performing big band-style covers of contemporary songs from a balcony just above the bar on the opposite side of the pool. Waiters bobbed and weaved from the bar to the tables and back again as the music swirled around the room.

Several patrons openly gaped as they walked by. “Aren’t you popular?” Root quipped.

“Just what I need.”

Cobblepot stopped up ahead at a row of booths on the far side of the room. They’d have a clear line of sight to most of the dining room and a good portion of the bar from that position. “Not bad,” Shaw remarked under her breath.

“I think Ozzie wants to show you off.” It was true that while they’d be able to see most of the room, the entire room would be able to see them.

“Just tell me the robot was serious about wiping any photos.” She’d noticed more than one camera phone pointed in their direction.

“She’s not a robot, Sam.”

“Ladies,” Cobblepot called to them and gestured towards a vacant booth.

“The place looks lively as ever, Ozzie,” Root quipped as she helped Shaw into her seat. Once she was settled, Root slid in beside her. One of the hostesses from earlier appeared beside Cobblepot with a silver champagne bucket. A waiter was just behind her holding a tray with two champagne flutes.

Cobblepot picked up the bottle and popped the cork. “Would you ladies care for a drink?”

“Please,” Root nodded as she slid an arm around the back of the booth. Conveniently, it left her arm practically around Shaw’s shoulders. Shaw grudgingly allowed it given the circumstances.

He quickly poured two full glasses and slid them across the table. He settled the bottle back into the ice filled bucket. “May I say you two are a vision.”

“Please do,” Root chuckled, “often.”

Shaw must have looked less than enthusiastic as Cobblepot turned his attention to her to quickly explain himself, “I’m sorry if I’m making a bit of a scene, it’s simply that I didn’t think I’d see our dear friend here again.” He cleared his throat, “given her, ah past troubles.”

“No need to sugarcoat things, Ozzie,” Root chuckled. “I was in pretty deep. You can talk in front of Sam, though, she’s cool.”

“Well, we had heard you ran into a bit of a,” he lowered his voice, “Bat-problem.”

“Oh that?” Root waved him off. “Thanks to an associate of mine’s timely intervention, I managed to slip away.”

“Impressive.” He licked his lips. “And will we be seeing a return of said associate as well now that you’ve returned?”

“Phantasm will make an appearance eventually, I’m sure. You know how he likes to stay close.”

“It’s good you have appropriate security in place given the lovely company you’re keeping.”

“And my penchant for getting into trouble?” Root chuckled. “Oh I know you’re too polite to say it…”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, my dear.”

Root rolled the stem of her champagne flute between her fingers. “It’s no secret that I made a slight miscalculation when it came to the bat.”

“A mistake many are guilty of. Myself included,” Cobblepot nodded.

“I had to lay low for a while. It was the best thing to happen to me though. Got a new job,” she batted her eyelashes at Shaw, “Fell in love.”

“And I must say it suits you.”

“That’s what happens when you find the right gal.” Root took a sip from her glass. “But how have you been? How’s business?”

“About to get a considerable amount busier, I’d wager.” He smiled at Shaw and then pointed to the untouched menu on the side of the table. “Feel free to order whatever you’d like, everything is on the house tonight. Your presence here is going to do wonders for our word of mouth in high society circles.”

“Happy to help,” Shaw deadpanned. Just what this town needed.

“Yes, Sameen’s a big helper,” Root chuckled, “But I mean how’s business, business.”

“Now dearest you know I’m strictly a legitimate businessman these days. That was the case for some time even before your unfortunate absence.”

And Shaw was the Queen of freaking England.

“Even a legitimate businessman of your stature hears certain things,” Root pressed. Shaw had to give it to her, crazy knew how to work a mark. “You’ve always had good instincts, Ozzie. A guy like you can’t just turn them off.”

He nodded gravely. “An inconvenient truth.”

“Anyone we should watch out for? As you said, I’ve been out of the game for a while…”

The thing about Oswald Cobblepot was, for all his desire to wrap himself in polite sensibilities, he was still a criminal, a greedy bastard, and most importantly, a gossip at heart. He leaned against the table. “Well, Pamela is in the back room.”

“When did she get out?” Shaw grumbled. It was completely involuntary. And a huge mistake. When Root looked at her with narrowed eyes she swallowed. “She’s ah… hot. I’m sort of a fan.”

“It seems you have an affinity for the dangerous type, Ms. Shaw.”

“You have no idea,” she grumbled.

Root cut in, “Now Sweetie, we’ve talked about this.” She lowered her arm to curl fully around Shaw’s shoulders and pulled her in close, “I don’t share.”

Cobblepot did his squaw-laugh again. “I think she and Quinn are back on anyway.”

“Good for them.”

“Falcone is due to stop by later this evening. One of his men got sloppy the other day, and brought his failings to my doorstep, so I’m sure he’ll be in a mood. If you haven’t smoothed over that unpleasantness with the worm you planted in his systems, I’d steer clear.”

“Noted,” Root took a sip of her drink. The Iceberg was considered somewhat neutral territory but it would be best to avoid any unpleasantness with its patrons. Though he did just give Root the opening they needed. “About the families. You hear about anyone looking for help?”

“I wouldn’t think you’d be interested in that sort of thing what with your new paramour there.” He smiled, “If I were you, I’d be concentrating on feathering my nest.” He winked at Shaw.

Okay, ew.

“Sameen won’t get her full inheritance for a few years yet. Besides, who couldn’t use a little extra cash on the side every now and then?”

“You’ve always been a pragmatic one.” He leaned in closer. “There is a new player in town. Very hush hush. Managed to muscle Black Mask out of the docks.”

“That’s not the sort of thing that usually gets kept quiet.” Usually, it resulted in loud and bloody turf wars. Shaw still had the knife scars to prove it.

“These are big fish. One of their agents has been stopping in a great deal lately recruiting.” He nodded to a table towards the front of the room. All the tables around it were conspicuously vacant. A tall blonde in a deep red cocktail dress was holding court, surrounded by several men in dark suits. “Her name is Martine.”

“Thanks for the tip.”

“Oh I wouldn’t go poking around there if I were you. Her organization is ruffling too many feathers. The wrong someone is bound to get plucked soon.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“See that you do. You’ve always been one of my more pleasant patrons. I’d hate to see your wings be broken. Especially, if you plan to keep bringing your lovely companion by more often.”

“Ozzie, you’re all heart.”

“I wouldn’t spread that around. The rest of my clientele could become jealous.”

Root screwed up her face in a poor imitation of a wink. “Our little secret.”

Whatever Cobblepot was about to say in reply to that was interrupted by a loud voice booming out from across the room, “IIIIIIII’m a shark! I’m a shark, I’m a shark, I’m a shark…”

“Oh bother.” Cobblepot scowled as he glanced back over towards the bar area where the off key tune was originating from. “My dears I hate to cut this short…”

“But someone gave an idiot a keg or seven?” Shaw finished for him.

“Yes, seeing as King Shark is already on probation, I should probably intervene before he tries to eat any of the puffins.” He stood up, “Again.”

“I’m a mother lovin’ shark!”

“You know rumor has it, he’s a shark,” Root quipped as the singing increased in volume.

“No really,” Shaw drawled.

“Lovely to see you both. Ms. Shaw you shall always have a table waiting for you.” She nodded her head in thanks. “Root, do stay alive.”

“I shall do my able best,” she replied. “After all I have a very lovely reason to these days.”

“Indeed you do.” He dipped his head and then waddled off.

“How do these morons keep getting out?” Shaw grumbled once he was out of earshot. She shrugged Root’s arm off and scooted to the side a bit to put some space between them.

“It’s incredibly difficult to find quality staff for facilities like Arkham given the current political climate.”

“The same staff that recently certified you as sane?”

Root tapped a black lacquered fingernail against her lips. “What is it they say, a broken clock is right twice a day?”

Shaw snorted into her glass of champagne. “The last guy that said that to me had to eat through a straw for three months.”

“Tockman’s new grill looks quite dashing in a certain light. Gold plated to match his glasses, very classy.”

They nursed their drinks for another hour while they kept an eye on Martine’s table. The crowd around the blonde ebbed and flowed. It was almost as if her gaggle on hangers on were giving reports and then getting sent on their way.

Shaw cocked an eyebrow when she noticed one in particular. “She’s running with Jeff, The Painter?”

“I never understood, who would hire an assassin named Jeff? No panache.”

Because if there was one thing the creeps in this town were lacking, it was panache. Shaw shook her head. “I never understood who would hire an assassin who can barely hit anything.”

“His aim is noticeably awful.”

“Right?” Shaw took another sip of her drink. “Definitely looks like they aren’t very selective with their recruiting efforts. Three of those guys are cast offs from Black Mask’s crew. The one on the left with the stupid hair used to run with the Russians.” She’d put her boot to each of their asses a time or two. “They’re washouts.”

“Skill level doesn’t matter much if you’re recruiting cannon fodder.”

“That what you think is going on?”

“If you were looking to force out most of the families to make room for your own enterprises, you’d essentially be starting a war. Ozzie says they’ve neutered Black Mask, that they’re ruffling feathers…”

“Do we really have to carry on all the bird metaphors?”

“My point is, if these people are half as smart as they seem, they’d realize that a retaliatory strike is on the horizon. Nothing like a few low rent human shields to gum up some wheels.” She took a small sip from her glass, “And if those shields happen to pass a bit of information on their opponent’s operations before just passing on, well silver linings all around.”

“I can see why you lasted so long in the underground. You’ve got a mercenary streak.”

Root shrugged. It was true. She reached for the bottle to top off their drinks. “So we think Martine is Tao’s new backer?”

“It makes the most sense.” Shaw nodded over to the blonde’s table. “If she’s already tangling with Black Mask…”

“And winning.” Root handed Shaw her freshly filled glass.

“Then she’d definitely swing a big enough stick to cover for even Leon Tao’s shortcomings.” Shaw narrowed her eyes. “And she’s on the move.” She turned more towards Root so her observation of the woman wouldn’t be quite so obvious.

“Leaving so soon?”

“No, coming this way.” Shaw tracked Martine’s steady approach from the corner of her eye. “How’s your territorial gold digger act?”

Root’s wide smile bordered on manic. “Watch and learn, Sweetie.” She scooted so close, she was practically in Shaw’s lap.

A heartbeat later, their guest arrived at the table. “Ms. Shaw, pardon my interruption but I saw you here and simply had to introduce myself,” She held out her hand, “Martine Rousseau.”

“Good evening,” Shaw replied briefly taking the woman’s hand. She idly noted the feel of gun calluses on the otherwise smooth skin. Seemed like Martine Rousseau was a professional.

“I have to say I’m a fan.” Root snorted. Shaw discretely elbowed her in the side. Martine didn’t seem to notice their squabbling. “Your family is one of the pillars of Gotham City. Shaw Bio-Medical is one of the leaders in your field. That success has a great deal to do with your work.”

“Are you here to tell us something Sam doesn’t already know?” Root drawled.

Martine cocked her head to the side as if examining a particularly meddlesome insect. “And you are?”

“Her date.”

Martine turned her attention right back to Shaw. “I wasn’t aware you swung that way.” Commenting so directly on it was a little ballsy, Shaw’d give her that.

“You could say I swing both ways.” And I’d like to swing into your smug face with a crowbar, she thought. Shaw reached up and adjusted her glasses, “But I’m also not interested in making announcements about my private life. I spend time with who I like, when I like.”

“Lucky for me,” Root drawled.

“Quite.”

“Is there something you wanted, other than gossip about Sam’s personal life of course.”

“The firm I represent is looking to establish a proper foothold here in Gotham. I’d love to get some insight from someone in the know. Perhaps, a few introductions…”

“My mother takes care of the business end of things,” Shaw replied cutting her off. “I prefer to spend my working time in my lab.” She made a point of leaning into Root, “And even if I didn’t, this is my personal time.”

“No business at the table,” Root drawled. “That’s our rule isn’t it, Sweetie?” She nuzzled her head against Shaw’s shoulder.

Shaw nodded. “Work life balance is so important.”

“Sam has impeccable balance. She does yoga three times a week with widows and orphans.”

“I see.” Martine looked mildly disgusted. “Well, I’ll certainly get in contact with your mother Ms. Shaw. But if you could put in a good word with your her, smooth the way…”

“Her word will get better the faster you leave,” Root snapped. “Tottle on now.” She made shooing motions with her left hand.

That earned her a raised eyebrow. “You really ought to muzzle her. Or at least invest in a shorter leash.”

Shaw tilted her head in thought. Now that was an idea. “I would, but she already keeps getting out of the cuffs.”

“Terrible manners.”

“You have no idea.”

Martine held out a business card. “My personal number is on the back. Feel free to contact me directly if you’re ever in the market for more, polite, company.”

Shaw took the card with a smile, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Martine smirked at Root and then sauntered away from the table.

“I don’t think I like her,” Root grumbled as she sat up.

“The jealous girlfriend act did get us something though.” Shaw tapped the business card. “Decima Technologies. Ever heard of them?”

“Not yet,” she drawled. Shaw had a feeling that by tomorrow the woman would know everything there was to know about Decima on the web.

They sat and watched the comings and goings at Martine’s table for another hour and a half. The wait staff came by and refreshed the champagne and dropped off a plate of rather tasty canapes. A few members of the staff even stopped by the table to welcome Root back to the city, though Cobblepot failed to make another appearance.

“Looks like our girl is on the move again.” This time Martine stood and began to make her way towards the front of the building.

“Seems like a good time to end our evening as well,” Root stood and extended a hand to Shaw. She ignored her and slid around to exit on the other side of the booth. Root, rather than taking offense, just chuckled at her antics.

The crowd out front had thinned out. A handful of paps were still loitering outside the main doors in hopes of snapping a few pictures of drunken stragglers. Several patrons were waiting at the valet station for their cars. Martine had joined the back of that que. Root and Shaw would be just behind her in the line.

“I can follow her, but we’re going to get noticed in the Ferrari.” As much as Shaw loved the car, she told Root they should have gone with something a little less flashy. Or at least something with a big enough trunk to store their gear.

“No need,” Root replied as she dug for something in her hand bag. Shaw caught sight of what looked like a small pistol.

“I don’t think shooting her should be step one.” Maybe step three or four. Shaw was flexible like that. “Especially in front of this many witnesses.”

Root laughed, “It’s a tracking device. Think you can provide a quick distraction?”

“You bet your ass.”

“Yours looks amazing in that dress by the way.” She gave it a light smack before sauntering away.

If Shaw stumbled, if, it was for the mission. She exaggerated the movement, which sent her careening into Martine’s side. “Oh excuse me.”

“Ms. Shaw, are you alright?”

“My stupid heel.” She gestured to her shoes.

“Looks fine to me.”

“Really?” Shaw scrunched her face in confusion. “I could have sworn it broke just now.”

“And those are practically flats.”

“Oh I also could have sworn I put stilettos on.” She rolled her eyes, “You know for my date. She’s got stupidly long legs. Legs like a motha…”

Martine cut her off, “How much did you have to drink?”

She made like she was counting drinks on her fingers. After a moment she gave up with a shrug. “Oh well that nice Mr. Cobblepot kept sending bottles over. It would have been rude to refuse them.”

“Can’t have that.”

Shaw shook her head. “Not at all,” she hiccupped. “Did you meet Mr. Cobblepot?

“We’ve met.”

“He was so nice. I can’t believe what the papers used to say about him. So he likes birds, big deal.”

“I believe it was a little more than….”

“Hey!” Shaw perked up. “Maybe your boss could invest in the Iceberg?”

“I don’t believe he’s looking for any additional investors. Besides my employer is interested in more practical fields, as we discussed.”

So she did have a higher up to answer to. “Sss-too bad.” She glanced around, “Seems like business is good. There were lots of people in there.”

“How are you getting home? I could give you a ride.”

“No need for that,” Root interrupted. She reached out and took Shaw by the elbow, “Sorry Sweetie, there was a line for the powder room.”

“S-ok,” Shaw slurred.

Root smiled at Martine, “My darling girl doesn’t get out much.”

“I can see that.”

“Oh looks like your car’s here.” The valet had pulled up in a dark green jag and was gesturing towards them. Root gave her a nod, “looks like the poor dear is in a hurry.” She pointedly glanced over her shoulder, to where more patrons were making their way out of the building. “Busy night. Shouldn’t make the kid wait. Have a good evening, Ms. Rousseau.”

“Once again it was a pleasure, Ms. Shaw,” she drawled ignoring Root’s thinly veiled attempt at pleasantry. “Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

“Oh we plan to.” Root pulled Shaw closer to her body for emphasis. Shaw just nodded dumbly, keeping up the drunk act.

Martine rolled her eyes and turned to take her keys from the valet. His partner scrambled to open the driver’s side door for her. Once she was in the car, she pulled away from the curb without a second glance, nearly running over the guy’s foot in the process.

“Charming,” Root grumbled.

Shaw straightened up and discreetly pulled her arm from Root’s grasp. “She doesn’t like you much.”

“Can’t blame her for preferring your company, Sweetie.”

A third valet pulled up in the Ferrari. He opened the door with a wide smile, “this car is amazing.” He walked around the front and held the keys out to Shaw.

She moved to take the keys from the kid. Root quickly stepped in front of her. “Oh no party girl, passenger side.”

“Seriously?” Shaw hissed.

Root nodded. She leaned in close, to anyone watching it would appear she was nuzzling Shaw’s neck. “Have to keep our cover up.”

“Fine,” Shaw huffed. She nodded for the valet to drop the keys into Root’s outstretched hand. “You dent it, I dent you.”

“I’ll handle her with kid gloves.” Root reached out and opened the passenger side door for her. Shaw begrudgingly climbed into the passenger seat. Root gently closed the door and then turned and passed the valet a tip.

“Thank you ma’am.”

“Don’t spend it all in one place.” Root smiled and made her way around the car to the driver’s side. She quickly climbed in and fired up the engine.

“Did you at least get the tracker placed?” Shaw asked as Root pulled away from the curb.

“Please,” Root scoffed. “They log the cars in a networked system. She told me which one to look for. Hit the bumper of Martine’s jag when they drove it around the corner. As long as she’s in that car we’ll know every move she makes.”

“Then let’s hope she doesn’t feel like taking an Uber to work tomorrow.”


	3. Chapter 3

 

Shaw spent the next afternoon in her lab dodging phone calls from her mother and conducting some covert research of her own on Decima Technologies. Relatively new on the scene, yet they had their fingers in a lot of pies: military contracts, developments in the energy industry, cybersecurity, medicine, just to name a few. All an excellent front for anyone with darker motivations.

Root and the robot were supposed to be keeping tabs on Martine’s movements throughout the day as well as doing some digging into her background. Tonight they’d compare notes and move on from there. They’d agreed on that arrangement after Root had driven back to the warehouse where Shaw normally kept the car.

Shaw finished up her day job about an hour after dark. She took her private elevator to the rooftop and changed into the set of working gear she kept sealed in a secret storage locker fitted with a biometric lock. Shaw figured she had time to get in a bit of patrol before meeting up with Root.

She had already beaten up three muggers, one car thief, and stopped a burglary in progress when she decided to take a quick break to refuel. Shaw perched on a rooftop in midtown and pulled a protein bar from a specially designated, reinforced to prevent squishing, snack pouch on her belt. She was mid-chew when she realized she wasn’t alone.

“You’ve been keeping interesting company,” A voice rumbled.

Shaw looked over her shoulder to see the Batman emerging from the shadows behind her. “Said she was going to wipe the pics.”

“There weren’t any pictures with Gossip Gertie’s blind item: _Wallflower Heiress Takes a Walk On the Wild Side_.”

Oh. That wasn’t that bad.

“Lionel gave you up though.”

“Ass.”

Reese came to stand beside her. “He’s concerned. So are we. You’ve seen it, that woman is unhinged.”

She didn’t know why but her mouth was quick to open and defend Root. “The doctors released her.”

“Because Arkham’s track record is suddenly trustworthy?”

“How about you go back to your boss and ask him how trustworthy his pet robot is.”

“She’s made contact with The Machine?” Apparently, that little tidbit was news.

“You’re behind the times, Harold’s science project is going by Oracle now.”

She didn’t think it was possible, but his scowl deepened. “I thought that was Gordon’s kid?”

Shaw shrugged. “Apparently, not anymore.”

“I don’t like this.”

Who did? Certainly not Shaw. “Well, take it up with your boss and his robot. Not a whole lot I can do about it.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “You could choose better company.”

“Technically, the company chose me. At the direction of Finch’s science project, so again this whole thing is sort of his fault.”

“You could have told her no.”

“Have you ever tried telling that woman no?” Shaw shook her head. “And Tao is one of your informants. Why weren’t you out looking for him?” Maybe the Oracle wouldn’t have reached for help from Root if Reese kept better tabs on his snitches.

“If I knew he was in trouble I would have been.”

“Guess what? The guy’s in trouble.” The guy was probably dead if you asked Shaw. But no sense bringing that up at the moment. Reese already seemed edgier than normal. “And the only one who seems to give a damn is Finch’s fucking computer.”

“And Root,” he scoffed.

“Yeah, and Root.”

“You didn’t tell Finch she was out.”

“No, I didn’t.” She came to Shaw. It was Shaw’s problem to handle. Given the history, she hadn’t thought Finch could be objective. Given this conversation, Shaw was right not to involve him or Reese in the beginning.

“It might make someone question your judgement.”

Where in the hell did he get off?

“Tell me something, John. When you were putting Clayface back together again over at Blackgate the other day, did you happen to pop over to Kara Stanton’s cell and say hello? Or had Amanda Waller already sent someone to drag her crazy ass back to Belle Reve?”

“Not the same thing...”

“You’re right, as far as I know Root hasn’t blown up half the city before.”

“She’s an opportunist at best. Completely unpredictable.”

“Well, that she does have in common with your ex.”

“She kidnapped Finch.”

Okay, he had her there but still… “And yet his machine is vouching for her now.”

“She could have done something to it.”

“I’m sure Finch has been going over every line of code with a fine tooth comb.” She could tell by the way Reese tensed his jaw that her assumption was correct. “Has he found anything to suggest that yet?”

“He hasn’t said anything.”

That meant no. “Then I don’t know why we’re having this conversation.”

“Because she’s dangerous.”

“All the better that I’m around to keep an eye on her then.” Made sense to her. If she was with the crazy, she could contain the crazy’s crazy. Or at least try, honestly, it was a lot for even her to deal with.

“But who keeps an eye on you?”

“You and Lionel apparently,” she drawled. “You two are worse than my mother.”

“She’s killed people.”

“So have I. So have you for that matter.” He wasn’t having terrorists over for tea and cakes back when he worked for the government after all. Hypocritical wasn’t a good look on him.

He tapped the bat emblem on his chest. “Not since we put on the uniform.”

“Only because no one’s forced my hand.” Reese really couldn’t be that naive.

“We don’t kill.”

“Not as a first option, no. Not even as a second or third these days. But I’m a pragmatist. I’m willing to admit that someday, to save this city, I might have to again.”

“Shaw…”

Something in the sky above them caught her eye just then. The shadow of a bat was being projected across the clouds. Seemed like the Batman’s presence was requested elsewhere. And if that wasn’t excellent timing.

She pointed at the light in the sky. “Looks like there’s someone out there that actually needs you.”

“This isn’t over,” He growled.

“Yeah, it is.”

He looked like he wanted to argue that point, but Shaw again pointed up at the sky. Reese shook his head and walked over to the edge of the rooftop. “Be careful.” With that he fired his jump line and leapt from the roof.

Shaw watched until Reese swung between two buildings a few blocks away and out of view. Her comm system suddenly went active. “The Big Lug never knows when to let things go does he?”

“Root?”

“Hey, Sweetie, ya busy?”

“Why are you calling? I thought we weren’t supposed to meet up until later.” Much later.

“We weren’t. But your detective friends found a body.”

“Is it Tao?”

“South docks. Slip 216.” The line went dead.

“Drama queen,” Shaw huffed. She stood up and rolled her shoulders. Then she leapt from the roof. Her cape fluttered out behind her, letting her glide away from the building.

She found Root perched on a rooftop not far from the area she mentioned. She could see a single police cruiser parked below. “I’m surprised I beat Batman here.”

If Root was startled by her sudden appearance, she didn’t show it. “Oh Two-Face is robbing the Doublebee Gallery over on second avenue,” she replied. “They really should ditch those extended operating hours. Tends to attract the wrong sort of clientele.” She shrugged, “anyway, that’s why they fired up tall, dull and broody’s gaudy light in the sky.”

“For an art heist?”

“Oh did I fail to mention the mayor’s wife just happened to be in attendance?”

Shaw rolled her eyes.

“He’ll be fine.” Root nodded to a lone figure walking up the dock towards the police cruiser, “And it leaves us free for a bit of girl talk with the good detective down there.”

Shaw started towards the edge of the roof. She paused after about four steps and turned back to Root. “Can we do this without all the theatrics this time?”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“Whatever.” Shaw began walking backwards. “Just be cool.”

“The coolest.” Root held up her hand.

“Don’t do the Campfire Girl thing.”

Root slowly lowered her hand. Shaw leapt into the air before she could say anything else. She performed a perfect backflip and then fanned her cape out behind her to slow her descent. If she was lucky, maybe she could finish with Carter before Root could make her way down to the street.

She shook her head as she landed a few feet behind the detective. There was no way she was ever going to be that lucky a day in her life. Best to make this quick.

“Carter!”

The woman’s shoulder’s stiffened. She turned to glare at Shaw. “How many times have I’ve told you that I hate when you do that?”

Probably about a thousand. But her reaction kept being funny. Though Shaw didn’t think Carter would appreciate hearing it. “Maybe next time it’ll stick?”

“Why do I doubt that?”

Shaw shrugged, “you’re the detective.”

“Right.”

Shaw liked Carter. She was a good cop. An honest cop. Those were two qualities that were extremely hard to find in Gotham. The fact that the woman was also a bad ass was just icing. She never backed down when she knew she was right, and she didn’t let anyone badge, suit, or costumed freak intimidate her. Bottom line Shaw respected Carter and she was pretty sure Carter respected her and not just because the broodier Bat put in a good word.

“Heard you had a run in with Clayface the other day. Where’s the rookie you got stuck babysitting as your reward?”

“Allen got pulled into a case with Montoya before this one got called in.”

“Those two should work well together,” Root remarked as she stepped into view.

Shaw shook her head. Not even five minutes.  

Carter didn’t seem at all surprised by the sudden entrance of another mask. “I’m sure they’ll both be ecstatic you approve.”

“Just calling it like I see it.” Root held out a hand. “So nice to finally meet you, Detective.”

“Right,” Carter ignored the offered hand, to turn and give a questioning glance at Shaw. “Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not.”

“I’m guessing you’re here about Tao?”

“If you don’t mind filling us in.”

Carter scoffed, “when has that ever stopped any of you?” Still she started walking back towards the boat slip. Root and Shaw silently followed. “The ME has already picked up the body.” She came to a stop next to a half burnt out fishing boat. Strands of yellow police tape flapped in the slight breeze coming off the water like demented party streamers. The smell of smoke was still strong, even what had to be hours after the fire had been extinguished. “Feel free to take a look at what little of a crime scene we have here if you want though.”

They’d do that. Shaw had a few questions first. “Who found him?”

“Couple guys checking their crab pots.” Carter tucked her hands into the pockets of the beige trench coat she was wearing to ward off the chill. “Thought the boat was abandoned and towed it in with plans to break it down for scrap. Got a hell of a surprise.”

“Any idea how long he’d been floating around out there?”

“Not long at all,” Carter replied. “The ME hasn’t officially called it just yet, but given the condition of the body, he couldn’t have been dead for more than forty-eight hours.”

So Tao was probably still alive when the Oracle put them on his trail. Shaw clenched her jaw. “Any leads?”

“The boat is registered to Blackwater Tours. Though they apparently had no idea it was missing.”

The name was familiar. “Sionis owns that company. But Black Mask isn’t this sloppy.”

“No he’s not,” Carter agreed. “Seems the do-er wanted us to make that connection and be lazy enough to stop there though.”

“Or they figured cops are stupid,” Root suggested.

Shaw knew her body language screamed “really?”

“What?” Root shrugged. “You have to admit your average member of the GCPD isn’t up to Detective Carter’s standard.”

“Thanks I think,” Carter drawled.

Shaw attempted to get them back on track. “Did Tao die in the fire?”

Carter shook her head. “Professional job. Double tap to the head, quick and clean. Their screw up came when they tried to dump the body.” She pointed over her shoulder to the halfway burnt out boat. “The pro does Tao, then hands the body over to a cleaner. We figure that much because there was no visible trace of blood found on the boat. That guy was either new to the field or in a hurry. Put the body onto the boat and lit it up. Rain last night doused the fire before too much damage was done. Boat drifted back into the harbor this afternoon.”

“Whatever happened to a solid pair of cement shoes?”

“No one appreciates the classics anymore,” Root wistfully sighed.

“Not to break up whatever the hell this is,” Carter waved a hand between them. “But mind taking a turn answering a question?”

Shaw shrugged.

“Why the interest in a low level snitch?”

“Sources say Tao had moved up in the world lately. He’d been making the rounds the past month or so with a new crew.”

“You think his new friends hated him as much as his old ones?”

“Or he outlived his usefulness to them.”

Carter whistled. “Then that relationship had an awfully short shelf life.”

“Either way, the guy was hooked onto something big. Something someone was willing to kill him to cover up.”

“Any ideas as to who?”

Shaw shook her head. “Nothing concrete at the moment. Word at the Iceberg is that someone is muscling out Black Mask. Maybe Tao got caught in the middle.”

“The Iceberg? Didn’t realize you were a patron.”

“That was more my influence,” Root chimed in.

“I’ll bet.” Carter shook her head. “It does give me a direction to look in.”

“Be careful, Detective. These people don’t appear to be your typical bumbling street thugs. They probably won’t hesitate to kill a cop.” If they were willing to off a known informant of The Batman, then the odds of that were pretty damn high in Shaw’s opinion. Carter needed to keep both eyes open.

“I don’t know whether to be touched or creeped out by your sudden concern for law enforcement.”

“I’d go with creeped out,” Shaw supplied. “But she’s not completely crazy in this case.”

“You try to be nice to people and this is the thanks you get,” Root shook her head. Then she tilted it as if listening to something. “If you ladies don’t mind, if have to take a call.” She gestured back towards the parking area.

Shaw waved her off. “Not like that’s the weirdest thing you’ve done since you started hanging around.”

Root shrugged and walked off without another word.

“Seriously, what’s the deal with her?” Carter asked once Root was a reasonable distance away from them.

“Wish I knew.”

“This going to be a permanent thing? You and ghost girl running around sticking your noses in my case files.”

“This is a special case.”

“I’m sure Leon Tao would be touched you stepped so far out of your comfort zone on his behalf.”

Shaw wouldn’t go that far. “Someone touching Tao is apparently how I got roped into this mess.”

“You know I didn’t believe Fusco when he told me.”

Here it comes. “Not looking for another lecture…”

“Wasn’t going to give you one. Despite your penchant for running around in tights, you’re a big girl. I trust you know what you’re doing.”

“These aren’t tights.”

“Just say thank you for trusting me Carter.”

“Thanks, I guess.”

“Close enough,” She sighed. “She gets anyone killed though…” Carter trailed off.

“I’ll hand her over to you personally.” After she kicks her ass.

“Just make sure she doesn’t get you killed either.” She nodded at the boat. “Care to go aboard? Or are we waiting for Morticia to finish her convo with Cousin It?”

Shaw shook her head. “Did you get that one from Lionel?” She eased past Carter and on to the boat.

“Please,” Carter scoffed as she followed her aboard. “I write all my own material.”

Root didn’t return before Shaw finished examining what little there was to see of the boat. So she saw Carter to her car and then went hunting. She found Root perched on the rooftop of a frozen fish processor a few buildings over from the pier. “I think Freeze worked out of this place once.”

“You’re thinking of the Snowy Cones plant. It’s closer to downtown.”

Shaw thought about that for a minute. “Right. John snagged his cape on the nose of that stupid snowman once when he was running Freeze’s goons out of the building. Finch had to call me in to cut him down before anyone noticed.”

Root chuckled. “I’d pay good money to have seen that.” She cocked her head to the side as if someone was whispering in her ear again. “I look forward to it.”

“Do I even want to know?”

“She has the security footage on file.”

“Because that’s not creepy or anything…” Just how long had big sister been watching? Let alone making her own video yearbooks? Another chat with Finch was probably in order.

“Hilarious I’m sure, but back to business.”

“You mean you weren’t sulking about up here just for giggles?”

“Cute.” Root pointed south across the bay. “Three guesses who owns that warehouse over there, but you won’t need three.”

“Decima,” Shaw growled.

“Through a number of shell corporations, but yes.”

“The odds of that being a coincidence?”

“In Gotham? Slim to none.” Root stood up. “Care to go take a look?”

There was one easily avoided security guard asleep in his car in the parking lot. The voice in Root’s head explained that the security cameras ringing the warehouse were on a closed network, therefore unhackable, and thus were best avoided. They slipped in to the building from a skylight on the roof.

“All those cameras but they don’t have the big ass window on the ceiling wired?” Or locked for that matter.

“It’s not the easiest point of entry.”

“But in this town?” That was like asking for a murderous clown infestation.

Root chuckled, “I see your point.”

They were in a large office. Bookshelves lined one wall. Several ancient-looking file cabinets covered the wall opposite. A massive mahogany desk took up the majority of the space. Root circled it first. “No computer.” She leaned under the desk, popping out of sight for a brief moment. “There’s some cabling under here. That would seem to point to there once being one here though.”

“Maybe they’re upgrading their equipment.” Shaw nodded to a paisley area rug in front of the desk, “they should have started with the décor.”

“Not much to look at I agree,” Root nodded as she opened and closed the desk drawers.

Shaw followed suit going over to the filing cabinets and taking a look inside. Nothing but folder after folder of shipping invoices. “I don’t know why they bothered with a gun, they could have bored Tao to death with this stuff.”

“If you were going to take care of a meddlesome snitch would you do it in your nice clean office,” Root opened the door and stepped outside. Shaw followed. They were now on a large catwalk of sorts overlooking the warehouse floor. Rows of shipping containers spread out the length of the space. “Or would you take your dirty work to someplace more mobile?”

“And easier to hose out the blood stains.”

“Now who has a mercenary streak?”

Shaw ignored that. “Now we only have about fifty of those things to check out.”

“Nothing to it but to do it, I suppose.” Root started towards the stairs.

They began a basic grid search. Root and Shaw each took a side of the massive space and worked their way from container to container moving steadily towards the back of the building. It took them nearly an hour of fruitless searching before Shaw came upon an empty container. She was about to move on when a glint in the back caught her eye.

She stepped into the container and quickly made her way to the rear corner. She swept her flashlight across the space as she went. She knelt when she reached what had originally made her pause. “Hey Casper.”

While she waited for Root, Shaw reached out and picked up a thin gold necklace. It looked like it had been pulled from someone’s neck. The chain was snapped about halfway around. There was also a crusty red substance coating several of the links.

“You bellowed?”

Shaw moved the light so Root could see the floor in front of where she was crouched. “Think I’ve got something over here.”

Root knelt down beside her. “Good catch.” She tapped a finger against the floor of the container. There were a few rust-colored droplets dotting the area. “Blood spatter?”

“Looks like it to me.” Shaw held up the gold chain she found, “and for the bonus round.”

“Detective Carter was right; these guys really are sloppy.”

“Amateurs.” Shaw slipped the chain into a pouch on her utility belt. “No way to know if it’s Tao’s just by looking though.” Given what they had learned about Decima so far she didn’t know if she’d be more surprised if it was or wasn’t his blood. “I can get Finch to run DNA. As many times as Tao has been arrested it’s bound to be on file.”

“Handy.”

“What do we have here?”

Root and Shaw turned at the sound of the voice. Martine Rousseau was standing at the end of the shipping container. The overhead lights backlit her just enough that the pair could see the glint of a pistol in her hand. “You two, keep your hands where I can see them. Don’t even thing about trying anything cute. Stand up. Step out slowly.”

“I thought your boss was on over watch?” Shaw hissed as she complied with the orders. She could see the shadows of several men moving behind Martine. They had to get the lay of the land before coming up with a plan to get out of this latest mess.

“She says the jag hasn’t moved since it was parked across town this afternoon. She didn’t see anything coming this way on traffic cams either.” Root sounded disturbed by that fact.

It wasn’t all roses to Shaw either. “Turn on your voice changer.” The last thing they needed was Martine recognizing Root’s voice.

“What are you going to do?”

“Stop talking and get walking,” Martine barked. “Or I’ll have to tell the boys to start shooting.” She slowly moved backwards as Root and Shaw drew closer. The pistol remained trained on them the entire time.

Shaw immediately counted ten men when she stepped out of the container back into the warehouse proper. They were all armed. Three with pistols. One had a shotgun. Several more were holding knives. The biggest guy was slapping a crowbar repeatedly into one meaty fist. “Looks like you brought the party,” she growled at Martine.

“You people have a reputation. I’m nothing if not respectful.”

“Why did you kill Leon Tao?”

“That’s what this is about?” Martine laughed. “The two of you throwing your lives away for that waste of air?”

Root took a half step forward. Conveniently, it partially screened Shaw from Martine’s view. “Every life matters.”

“That’s rich. The Phantasm lecturing me on the sanctity of life. Your body count proceeds you.”

“I’ve changed.”

“Too bad, a bit of that old killer instinct might have saved you.”

The men were focused on the back and forth between Root and Martine. Shaw took the opportunity to move her left hand closer to her utility belt. She slowly released the catch where her grappling gun was holstered.

“Do we look worried?”

“You look like rejects from a side show,” Martine tilted her head in thought. “But I hear that’s the norm for this town.”

“Planning on sticking around our fair city long?”

“Longer than you will.” Martine holstered her weapon. “Shame, this was a good location. But I’ve been in Gotham long enough to know that if one of you freaks is snooping around, the other one will follow soon enough. We have plans for him. The two of you aren’t going to screw them up.”

“We?” Root asked.

Martine ignored her and motioned to the men. “Give me a few minutes’ lead and then kill them.”

“You don’t want to hang around for an unmasking?” Root made a pinching motion with her right hand. “Not even the tiniest bit of interest in who we are? That’s unusual.”

“You’re an annoyance. That’s all I need to know.” Martine turned to the men. “After they’re dead, make sure this entire building comes down on their heads. Let’s really give something to the police to blame on Black Mask.”

“Sure thing boss,” one of the men replied.

Martine gave them one last look and then turned and walked away.

“You’re really leaving? What you afraid to get your hands dirty?” Root called after her. The taunt didn’t garner a response.

The men closed ranks around them. “Any last words? You got about a minute.” The big crowbar guy, the apparent leader in Martine’s absence, told them.

Shaw tapped a specific panel on the side of her utility belt. Several small spheres fell into the palm of her hand. “You have a respirator in that Halloween mask?”

Root chuckled. “I did used to make my grand entrances in a puff of smoke.”

“In that case, I hope these guys like reruns.”

Shaw flung the smoke bombs in her hand at the men gathered in front of them. Then she grabbed Root with one arm as she simultaneously fired her grappling gun at the ceiling. Several bullets ricocheted off the floor where they had been standing a heartbeat prior, as they sailed towards the roof of the building, an ever expanding plume of smoke concealing their ascent from view.

They landed on a stretch of the catwalk running from the upstairs office. Root pointed towards the bay doors on the opposite side of the building. A blonde figure was running between the shipping containers towards the doors. “Martine, she’s getting away.”

A bullet sent up sparks as it hit the railing between them. “These guys catch on fast,” Shaw grumbled. “We’ll have to worry about her later.” She threw down another smoke bomb and began to run across the catwalk. Root quickly fell into step behind her.

“I’m going to drop down there behind those guys and see if I can thin the herd. You okay on your own up here?”

Root drew two pistols from underneath her cloak. “This isn’t my first ambush.”

Where the hell had she been keeping those? “Uh…”

“Oh don’t worry. I know, no shots to center mass.”

“Just try not to shoot me in the ass.”

“I’d never risk damage to something so precious.” Shaw could hear the smirk in Root’s voice.

“Whatever.” Shaw climbed up on the railing and prepared to jump.

“Oh I call shotgun.”

“The hell?”

Root was facing Shaw but had her right arm extended out and slightly behind her body. Her wrist was tilted enough to train the barrel of the gun in her hand on the warehouse floor. Without a word she pulled the trigger. There was a shout from beneath them and then an audible thump.

“Shotgun,” she shrugged. “Nine to go.”

“That’ll work,” Shaw nodded, before she once again fired her grapple and swung towards the men on the ground.

She caught one by the back of his jacket. He barely had time to yelp before she was throwing him through the air to collide with one of the containers with a loud clang. Shaw dropped to the ground as a shower of bullets rained down on the spot where the thug had once stood. She ducked around another container and began scaling its side.

Another gunshot rang out. Another man cried out in pain. “Perky Psycho’s not bad at this,” she thought aloud. Shaw pulled herself up on top of the shipping container and ran towards the opposite end. She jumped and easily cleared the space between containers.

Three of the men were standing in a junction of two aisles. “Fish meet barrel.” Shaw withdrew a flashbang from a slot on her belt and tossed it at the men’s feet. “Three, two…” The small space between the men was suddenly awash with light. The bright flash and the loud noise completely disoriented the men.

Shaw leapt from the container and planted her feet squarely into the back of the nearest man. Her momentum caused him to crash face first into one of the containers. He was slowly sliding to the floor as she moved to her next target.

This one had recovered enough of his wits to take a swipe at her with his knife. Shaw easily side stepped the clumsy swing. “Honestly.”  

He snarled and swung out at her again.

She ducked under that swing as well, but this time she moved towards him and under his guard. As she came back up she delivered a wicked uppercut to the underside of his jaw. He dropped like a sack of potatoes. “You guys are really bad at this.”

She heard three shots from somewhere to her left. And then two more shots. Seemed like Root was having some playtime of her own.

The third man came at her at a run. She spun away from his rush and brought her left leg up and kicked out at his head. He actually ducked under the strike. He threw a punch just as she was coming up and managed to clip her jaw. Shaw fell back a couple of steps from the force of the blow.

Seeing an opening the man pressed his advantage. He started throwing punch after punch. Shaw brought her arms up but could do little more than block his strikes. She kept sliding back to try to create some distance between them. Her left heel grazed the side of a container. She pivoted a half turn just in time for a fist to glide past her head and into the metal barrier.

“Ahhh fuck!”

Yeah that was probably broken.

“Like I said,” Shaw grabbed the back of the man’s neck and slammed his face into the side of the shipping container. “You guys are seriously bad at this.” She let the now unconscious idiot fall to the ground.

“Now how many was that?”

“Hey pretty.”

Shaw turned to see another man standing behind her. There was a bang and then the guy fell to the ground clutching his now bleeding knee. “You missed one,” Root teased over the comms.

“I had him.” Shaw walked over and kicked him in the head to punctuate that point. Really, the guy should be grateful. That little nap was way better than being awake to feel that gunshot wound any longer.

“But were you planning on letting him know that?”

“Just shut up and find me another target.”

“Two rows over. Tricky little rabbit keeps hugging the side of the containers so I can’t get a clear shot.”

“Oh is that why you keep wasting perfectly good ammo?” Shaw was already climbing on top of another container.

There were another two shots. “Just get over here.”

Root had managed to herd her little rabbit to the edge of the mass of shipping containers. This area of the warehouse was filled with wooden crates and a few rows of heavy steel shelves covered in smaller boxes. Shaw could see a lone figure ducking between crates pointing a gun up at the catwalks. She circled around his position jumping from a shipping container to the top of one of the shelves. She jumped from shelf to shelf, much like she had before with the shipping containers until she was behind her target.

After he exchanged another round of fire with Root, Shaw dropped own behind him. “Hey.” He turned to try and fire at her. She grabbed his arm and twisted so that the muzzle veered to the left. He got a shot off, but it went wide. Shaw punched him in the ribs. He sputtered but didn’t go down. She pulled his arm backwards, while taking half a step behind the man, then she kneed him in the back. There was a loud pop as his shoulder was dislocated from the opposing forces. He cried out and dropped his gun. Shaw let go of his arm while dropping to the ground. With a quick turn she swept the man’s legs out from under him. He hit the concrete floor with a smack.

She knocked him out before he could recover his wits. “That just leaves…” There was a slight whistling sound. Shaw fell to her knees a split second before a crowbar split the air where her head had been.

She barely rolled away before the crowbar came down in another slashing strike. She looked up to see the big guy from earlier grinning at her. “Stay still.”

Great, dumb and ugly. “How about no?” She kicked his right knee, causing it to buckle. As he fell to the ground Shaw used the time to put some distance between them. She hopped to her feet and shuffled backwards, never taking her eyes off of him.

“How’s it going down there?”

“Peachy.”

Crowbar guy stood back up. Shaw pulled a batarang from her belt and flung it at his head. He batted the projectile out of the air with the crowbar. So this one clearly had some aptitude.

He came at her with two wild swings. She dodged them both. But the big guy was apparently just a hair smarter than he was ugly as he feigned a third strike. When Shaw moved to dodge again, he punched her in the side of the head with his free hand.

She grunted. Dude hit like a truck.

“That sounds less than peachy.”

“I’m fine,” Shaw growled as she retaliated by sending three quick blows into her opponent’s gut.

He countered by bringing the crowbar down and across her shoulders.

Shaw fell to her knee and barely managed to roll to the side before he could hit her again. She sprang to her feet and came at him in a rush. Two more punches to his ribs connected before he could react. Then she clipped his chin with an uppercut. Unfortunately for her, he didn’t have a glass jaw like his friend from earlier.

He managed to bring the crowbar back around and hit her in the side. The padding her suit provided kept the strike from breaking bone, but it hurt almost as much. When he swung again she stepped into his body making sure only his forearm came in contact with her and then lowered her arm trapping his against her body. Then she used her other arm to elbow the hulk of a man in the face. Once. Twice. The third time he let go of the crowbar.

Shaw smirked for a half second before she realized that he did that so he could wrap a meaty fist around her utility belt. He grabbed her shoulder with his other hand. With his grip firmly established, he picked Shaw up and threw her towards one of the stacks of crates. She heard Root yelling her name over the comms right before she made impact.

“Okay ow.” Shaw slowly stood up. She licked her now bleeding lip. “Gotta say, I haven’t had this good of a workout in days.”

“Just wait till I get my hands back on you.”

Shaw’s vision went a little blurry and then snapped into sharp focus again. She raised her fists. “Are you going to do something or just run your mouth?”

He snorted and took a step towards her.

Suddenly, something flew past Shaw and whacked the guy in the chest. He fell over into the shelves with a crash and then slid down onto the floor. Several boxes came down on top of him. She turned her head to see Root rushing towards her.

“Are you alright?”

“The hell was that?”

“I think that’s the last thug.”

“Was that an iron?”

“The crates were full of them.”

“You threw an iron.”

“So? You throw bat-shaped knives around.”

“That’s what you’re going to go with?”

Root held up one of her guns. “It would have taken me too much time to reload. Besides, it worked. I don’t know why you’re being all judgmental about it.”

“Because it was an iron.”

“Do you have a concussion?” Root raised her left hand. “How many…”

“If you do that stupid Campfire Girl thing, I swear I will break your fingers.”

Root frowned and lowered her hand. “You’re obviously fine.”

Actually, her entire body felt like a bruise on top of a bruise. Not that Shaw was going to tell Root that. “Never better.”

“So what now?”

“I’ll call Carter.” Shaw was pretty sure most of these morons had warrants out. They could at least get them off the streets. That would partially salvage this mess of an encounter.

“Pardon me for being new at this side of the ritual but,” Root gestured to the two men bleeding on the floor nearby, “should we tie them up, just in case?”


	4. Chapter 4

 

Despite the late night, Shaw was out and about taking care of more of her charity obligations the next afternoon. The lunch meeting with the director of the Gotham Veterans Center wasn’t bad at all. The past hour with the Daughters of the Founders was an exercise in extreme control, however. It didn’t help matters that her ribs ached like a mother. If one more pageant queen wannabe commented on her recent appearance in the gossip pages…

At least the meeting had been semi-fruitful. Shaw fired off a quick text to the director of the animal shelter that she was on the way with the checks she’d collected. She was so focused on her task that she barely registered the bluish-grey APS truck that pulled up to the curb in front of where she stood.

“Need a lift?”

Shaw looked up at the sound of the voice. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Root smiled from the driver’s seat. She tipped the brim of the blue baseball cap on her head. “There’s plenty of room I assure you.”

“I’m not getting in a stolen delivery truck.” She could just imagine Gossip Gertie’s blind item for that one. The old bitty still had yet to shut up about the other night at the Iceberg.

“It’s not stolen.” Root nodded towards the sky. “Also it’s about to rain.” She exaggeratedly looked Shaw over. “I don’t see an umbrella. Be a shame to ruin all those documents the animal shelter needs right away.”

How did she? Wait. Stalker with an overpowered AI in her ear twenty-four seven. A crack of thunder sounded, the universe’s fucked up bit of punctuation to that point. Shaw clenched her teeth as a fat raindrop pelted her in the forehead. “Fine.”

“Welcome aboard,” Root grinned.

“Try not to talk and I’ll try to remember why I haven’t stabbed you yet.”

“Someone’s cranky.” Root put the truck in gear and pulled away from the curb.

“Someone’s had a busy day dealing with idiots after an even busier night running around the docks with a psycho.”

“Sounds fun.”

Shaw glared at her.

“You want to stop for coffee? Perhaps a light snack?”

Shaw clenched her fist. “Perhaps a light smack?”

“Not while I’m on the clock,” Root quipped. “It’s my first day.”

“Seriously?”

Root nodded as she drummed her fingers against the top of the steering wheel. “A girl’s got to eat.”

“I didn’t peg you for the day job type.”

A groan from the back of the truck caused Shaw to turn her head. There was a man in an APS uniform laying on the floor surrounded by boxes. She looked back at Root. “Didn’t steal the truck huh?”

“Oh that’s my training buddy. He took a package to the face. Freak accident, very sad.”

“Heartbreaking, I’m sure.”

“Completely,” Root nodded. “Normally, I’d drop him by urgent care or something but our schedule is just so full today. Busy, busy, busy.”

“Uh huh.”

“It’s very important to keep to the schedule. People need their packages. So much so that our pay gets docked if our customer satisfaction ratings go down. It’d be such a shame for the poor boy to lose his stellar ranking due to mere happenstance.”

“Right.”

“Funny thing, did you know this route makes deliveries at the morgue?”

The stupid delivery girl cosplay suddenly made sense. “Tao’s autopsy.”

Root grinned. “It’s just like Detective Carter said. Two shots to the back of the head.” She mimed a pair of shots with her left hand over the steering wheel. “Had some pretty nasty bruised ribs too.”

Shaw’s ribs throbbed in sympathy. “So they gave him a beating before the kill shot?” She frowned. “Trying to get some information out of him?”

“Could be.” Root pulled the truck to stop at a red light. She looked over at Shaw. “There was one curious thing about the body.”

“You going to spit it out?”

“Funny you should put it that way.”

“Were you always this annoying? Or were you bitten by a radioactive telemarketer?”

Root ignored those questions. “There was a key in Tao’s stomach.”

Okay, that was unexpected. “A key to what?”

“Don’t know yet. There was a serial number, she’s working on it.”

“You can bet Carter will be as well. For that matter if Decima is as connected in this city as they seem to be already, they’ll have eyes in the department too. If the key is tied to what got Tao killed…”

“It would be a real issue if they got their hands on it,” Root nodded. “Good thing it’s no longer in police custody.”

“You stole the key from the morgue?”

“Since the receptionist was on lunch break the ME had to sign for the department’s order of respirator filters himself.” She scrunched her nose. “Poor dear was quite flustered. Seems he thought he ordered one case of twelve. Not twelve cases of one hundred. Got right on the phone as soon as he handed me back the clipboard. For being a scientist, he’s not very observant.”

“What if they come looking for the truck, when they notice the key is missing?”

“I plan to be long gone. But GCPD will have a helpful, if concussed, APS training supervisor to question and about fifty boxes in the back to riffle through before they figure out it isn’t here either.”

“Nice.”

“Just so you know, you’re free to riffle through my box anytime.”

The guy in the back of the truck groaned again. “I’ll pass. But it sounds like Clumsy Smurf back there is interested,” Shaw smirked.

“He’s really not my type.”

“Too law abiding?” The guy groaned louder as if to agree.

“Much too boring.” Root reached over and turned on the radio. “There, that’s better.”

“Right,” Shaw drawled. “What are you going to do when he wakes up?”

“Tell him how I saved a damsel in distress, before I knock him out again, of course.”

“Of course.”

“Oh I love this song.” Root began to wiggle in her seat.

“What are you twelve?”

Once again she ignored that question to pose one of her own. “What do you say, Sameen? Wanna be like Marvin and get gay?”

“That’s not even how that goes.”

“I’m more interested on how you go,” Root leered at her. “How long specifically. We both know you have marvelous stamina…”

“Do you have an off switch?”

“Interested in mashing my button, Sweetie?”

Shaw groaned at that. She reached over and turned up the radio, this time in an attempt to drown out the double entendres.

“I knew you were a Marvin kind of gal.”

“I’m more of a Black Canary fan.” Shaw saw Root purse her lips from the corner of her eye.

“She punched me in the face once, you know.”

“Canary?”

Root nodded.

“That’s not surprising.” Shaw wondered if the robot-overlord had any video footage of that. She’d have to buy Dinah a beer the next time she was in town with the band.

“Rude.”

“Me or Black Canary?”

“Definitely both.” She licked her lips. “Fortunately, I find Cro-Magnon behavior wildly attractive when it’s you.”

“Great.”

Two minutes later, Root pulled the van to a stop. Shaw glanced to her side to see that they were in front of the animal shelter. “Want me to wait?”

“Nah,” Shaw climbed out of the van. “Wouldn’t want your satisfaction rating to suffer.”

“You’re such a softie.”

“Just let me know when the TI-81 has something on that key.”

“Will do.” Root gave her a two fingered salute. “See you soon.” The van pulled away from the curb and merged into traffic almost taking out a bicycle messenger in the process.

“Not insane my ass.” She shook her head as she headed towards the front door of the shelter. At least she could get some quality time in with the only things that made sense in this town.

A few hours spent with the furrier denizens of Gotham slightly improved Shaw’s mood. The rest of the day passed quickly. After the animal shelter, she got in a couple hours at her desk, before heading out for her final meeting of the day. That location was a bit unconventional.

“You’re late.”

Reese shook his head as he emerged from the shadows between the dumpsters dotting the alleyway Shaw had been waiting in. He was suited up. His cape dragged against the wet concrete as he walked towards her. “Zsasz tried breaking out of Arkham. He put five guards in the infirmary before I got there.”

“You could have called me.”

“It was handled.” He nodded to the evidence bag in her hand. “Besides, I heard you had a busy night.”

“Yeah. Tell Finch I appreciate him running this for me.” She held the bag with the blood stained gold chain they had found last night out for him to take.

Reese slid the bag into a pouch on his utility belt. “We all want to know who killed Leon.”

“Pretty sure I know the who.” The why was what was giving her a migraine. Well that, and the stack of shipping crates she got up close and personal with the night before.

“This woman, Martine.”

“Still in the wind.” The jag hadn’t moved an inch. And as far as Shaw knew, Oracle had no clue how the blonde and her crew had managed to roll up on the warehouse last night without being picked up on any traffic cameras. “And apparently has a crush on you.”

“Finch mentioned she told you she had plans for me. Any ideas on what those are?”

“Pretty sure they’re not of the Angler variety.”

Reese scowled.

“Obviously, it’s nothing good. But given the fact that the woman seemed to have no interest whatsoever in who Root and I were under the masks last night, I also don’t think this chick is your typical run of the mill crazy.” Something in Shaw’s gut told her this whole thing was bigger than squabbles over turf with Black Mask.

He cleared his throat, “look Shaw, about Root.”

“Is this where you admit you were being a jackass?”

“I still don’t trust her…”

Shaw quirked an eyebrow.

“But you were right. These people moved in on the scene, started a fight with Black Mask and I didn’t pick up on it. Leon was obviously in trouble and I missed it.”

“You’re not responsible for every bad thing that happens to the morons in this city.”

“But I am responsible for the people I choose to work with.”

There wasn’t really anything Shaw could say to that. Tao may have gotten involved with Martine to begin with because he thought his reputation as being protected by the Bat would give him some kind of armor. Maybe that squirrely bitch sought him out to try and garner some information on John. There was still too much they didn’t know.

“Whatever Martine is up to, I’ll stop her.”

“And Finch and I will back you. Whatever you need.”

The roar of an engine caught their attention. A black-clad figure on an equally dark motorcycle peeled into the parking lot. Reese moved to put himself between the pavement and Shaw. She rolled her eyes. Honestly? She shoved him to the side as the bike stopped at the mouth of the alley.

When the rider removed their helmet, Root’s smiling face was revealed. “Hey, kids.”

“Root.”

“Lurch,” she nodded to him.

Shaw smirked, “What happened to your little hat?”

“APS and I came to a mutual agreement that I would best be served by seeking out alternative employment opportunities.”

“Do I even want to know?” Funny how common that question was when it came to Root.

Shaw looked up at Reese. “Not one bit.”

Root gestured to the back of the bike where another helmet was strapped. “Hop on Shaw, we need to take a ride to Bludhaven.”

Shaw shook her head. “We have to work on your communication skills.”

“Wouldn’t that imply that our relationship will be more than a one-time thing?”

“It would imply that I don’t want to spend all my time kicking your needlessly cryptic ass.”

“Again with the ass talk.” Root licked her lips, “you still owe me that drink.”

“What was all that champagne?”

“Ozzie paid for that. Don’t go cheap on me now, Sweetie. Not when we’re starting to really click.”

“So you do planning on sticking around?”

Root blinked at Reese like she had forgotten he was standing there. Which was quite an accomplishment because, you know, Batman. “Why, are you recruiting for your book club?”

“I like to know what’s going on in my city.”

“Try taking your head out of your a…”

Shaw opted to stop her right there. “Why do we need to go to Bludhaven?”

“I’d like to know that as well.”

“Can’t a couple of gals go sightseeing?”

Reese crossed his arms over his chest. “Not when you’re one of them.”

Root returned her attention to Shaw. “I’d ask if he was always this insufferable but I have a thing about stupid questions.”

“Root.”

“You didn’t want Sameen to be a part of this case once you knew I was involved. You don’t get to take over now because you realized I was telling the truth.”

“That’s not what I…”

“Sameen and I are more than capable of handling this on our own. Besides, I only have one spare helmet.” She held said helmet out to Shaw. “Safety first.”

Shaw turned to Reese. “I’ve got this.”

He tensed his jaw, but after a moment, he nodded. Reese focused his attention back on Root. “So far everything you’ve done appears to be on the up and up.”

“The upmost,” Root smiled.

“Shaw vouches for you. I trust her judgement.” Shaw’s eyes narrowed at that pronouncement. Seemed like his little heart to heart moment in the alley was for real. “But if you cross her, you’ll have to answer to me.” With that Reese fired his jump line and sailed up towards the sky.

“I really think he’s warming up to me.”

Shaw shook her head as she took the helmet from Root’s hand.“I take it this little road trip has something to do with the key you pilfered?”

“It’s for a storage locker.”

“It can’t be that easy.”

Root shrugged, “apparently it is.”

Shaw settled on to the seat behind Root and pulled on the helmet. Root revved the engine. The nerd. “Hold on tight.”

The storage facility was actually on the outskirts of Bludhaven. It was one of those 24/7 climate controlled setups. Though the place had definitely seen better days. The paint on the sign was weathered and faded. Half the lights in the parking lot were out. Root parked the bike in one of the darker portions of the lot and removed her helmet. “Here we are.”

“Why would Tao come all the way out here?”

“The distance afforded him a certain amount of secrecy I suppose.”

The electronic lock on the front door beeped as they stepped forward without Root having to touch the keypad on the wall beside it. She smirked as she held the door open for Shaw to step inside first. “After you.”

There was no one visible beyond he Plexiglas window of the reception area. The overhead light gave a slight buzzing sound and then blinked on and off. Shaw waved Root forward. “Which way?”

She stepped around her and went to the hallway leading off down the right side of the building. “Follow me.”

The wooden heels of Root’s boots echoed down the hallway as she strode across the cracked linoleum. They twisted and turned down several identical hallways until Root stopped in front of a metal door marked 552. “And here we are.”

There was only one issue. Shaw nodded towards the door. “That key wasn’t for a padlock.” In addition to the lock built into the door handle there was a fairly new looking hasp and staple lock bar complete with a pad lock, running from the wall to the door.

“No.” Root held up a lock pick that she seemed to conjure out of thin air. “But, there’s also no security cameras.”

“This place doesn’t exactly put the secure in security.” Other than this new obstacle and the keypad on the front door, nothing about the building even felt like it had been touched in the last decade.

“In this instance it works in our favor.” Root worked the pick into the lock. Even Shaw could hear the click when it sprang open. “Well, that and the fact that Leon Tao went cheap in all aspects of his life apparently.” She removed the padlock and tossed it behind her. It landed down the hall with a clank.

“Drama queen.”

Root held the key out to her. “Care to do the honors?”

“No offence, but I know exactly where that has been.”

Root shrugged and reached for the knob. “Now to see what’s behind door number one.” She slipped the key into the lock and gave it a twist. The door eased open with a slight creak.

Shaw shoved past her to take the first step inside. She turned her head to glance back at the area around the door. “He couldn’t spring for a unit with working lights?”

“Don’t worry, I came prepared.” Suddenly, Shaw was blinded as Root waved a flashlight in her face.

“Try pointing that somewhere else, before I shove it up your...”

“Hangry again, Sweetie?”

“Root,” Shaw hissed through clenched teeth.

“We’ll make a stop at Big Belly Burger on the way home,” she quipped, but she did move the light away from Shaw’s face.

Shaw blinked rapidly as her eyes readjusted to the low light. “Just tell me something that will make this trip worth it.”

“Other than my scintillating company?”

“Obviously.”

Root panned the beam of the flashlight across the room. At first there wasn’t much to see. The place seemed mostly empty. A couple of cardboard boxes to the left of the door. A folding table directly in front of them. A slightly rusted metal chair to the side of that. “Wait…” She took a few steps into the room past Shaw and shined the light on the back wall.

Dozens of photographs were taped to it. Shaw walked over to it. She whistled as the entire picture came in to focus so to speak, “hello murder wall.”

“Seems like Mr. Tao had a hobby,” Root hummed as she stepped closer as well. She pulled a piece of paper from the wall and held it out to Shaw. “Find the Bat. Send out a warning. Seems like Leon felt like sharing before he disappeared.”

“But warn him about what?” Shaw’s eyes flickered from photo to photo in search of a reason for Tao’s apparent panic.

The shots looked like the inside of another warehouse. More shipping containers, some even featuring the Decima Technologies logo. There was a metal sphere with several spider-like appendages in most of the photos. Interestingly enough, Martine Rousseau also featured in quite a few candids. Shaw tapped the picture closest to her. “I recognize this.”

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t. The incident with Brother Eye was all over the news.” Root set the flashlight on the ground between them so that the collage was completely illuminated.

“What is Decima doing with pieces of a meta-human hunting AI?” Shaw thought the government had all that stuff under about a million locks and keys.

“Maybe they’re looking to get into the market?”

“Build their own robot-overlord?”

“It would certainly explain why Oracle would want us to look into the matter.”

“Worried about the competition?”

“More like how much worse another Brother Eye would be with a company like Decima calling the shots.”

Shaw thought about it. Things had been bad enough with the government in charge. She hadn’t been a cape when everything went down but she had still been working with ARGUS, while not directly involved she had witnessed the panic among the higher ups. Their brilliant AI going rogue and popping out dozens of mini-mes hell-bent on wiping out any and every one they saw as threats? Starting that thing up again under a corporation lacking even the miniscule amount of restraint Uncle Sam had employed? “I see your point.”

“This is all starting to make a scary amount of sense.”

No doubt. “And it definitely explains why they’d kill Tao if they knew he was about to tell someone about it.” Frankly, she was wondering if she shouldn’t bring Reese and Finch fully in on this case. Robots with delusions of grandeur were typically much more their thing.

“Would you be a dear and grab a few of those?”

Shaw rolled her eyes. “Why can’t you do it?” She glanced to the side but Root was no longer next to her. “Where?”

Root was over by the table. Shaw could just make out the movement of her hands in the low light. Root held up a notepad. “Paper matches the note.”

Not exactly the smoking gun. “Anything else?”

“A receipt for that lock out there. Oh hello…”

“What?” Shaw walked over to the table.

“It’s a calendar.” Root handed the stationary to Shaw. “There’s a date circled.”

“The 25th that’s just a few days from now.” She looked up but Root had moved again. Now she was examining the boxes.

“These are the same kind as the ones in that warehouse.”

“Think they’re full of irons?”

“Funny.” Root opened the box on top. “There’s a duffle bag inside.” She reached in and tugged on the strap of the bag. “It’s heavy.”

Shaw walked over and picked up the box. There was definitely some heft to it. She set the box on the floor. Then she grabbed the strap and lifted the bag. Judging by the weight, she had a pretty good idea what was inside. When she got the bag on the table and unzipped it, her suspicions were confirmed. She reached in and picked up an object. “Looks like Tao had a backup plan.” There was a banded stack of hundred dollar bills in her hand. It was one of several stacks in the bag.

“Oh we’re definitely stopping for dinner.”

Shaw shook her head and replaced the money. “There’s a passport in here too.” She flipped it open. “The picture is definitely our boy but the name is much too caucasian.” Tao was planning on running. But why didn’t he?

Root lifted the lid of the second box. “There’s a laptop in this one.”

“You don’t think he was dumb enough to take that from Decima…” Shaw held up a hand, “don’t answer that. The guy messed with these people to begin with. Of course he was that stupid.”

Root chuckled. “At least he was smart enough not to turn it on in this building. I’d bet my last bullet; Decima has tracking software installed on all their equipment. They’d have raided this place already if it had been activated.”

“Then it does us about as much good as it did Tao?”

“I find your lack of faith appalling, Sweetie.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning it’s time I took you back to my place for a nightcap.”

“I can’t believe you live in a bell tower,” Shaw mumbled around a mouthful of burger a few hours later.

“Clock tower,” Root called from another room. When they had arrived she’d shown Shaw to a bar stool in the middle of a, frankly swank, kitchen and had disappeared into the back of the apartment. Before Shaw could put up much of a protest there was a knock at the door.

“It’s for you.”

‘It’ had been a pimply delivery kid with twice her normal order from the Big Belly Burger three blocks over. Making her way through the many bags of greasy fast food had kept her occupied for about fifteen minutes. But now sated, she was ready to get back to business.

“Like that’s much different.” Shaw crumpled the final, and now empty sandwich wrapper between her hands. “Lair’s a lair.”

Root shrugged as she stepped into the kitchen. She’d taken off the motorcycle boots she’d been wearing earlier and was now wearing a pair of honest to god bunny slippers. Terror of the Gotham Underground indeed. Shaw shook her head. What a nerd.

Root, oblivious to Shaw’s scrutiny made her way over to the stainless steel refrigerator and opened it disappearing from view behind the large door. “Water?”

“Sure.”

Root smiled as she closed the door, two clear bottles in hand. “Lair or not, it’s rent controlled.”

Giant target-like tower smack dab in the middle of this city? “I’ll bet.” She nodded to one last bag sitting on the counter. “I assumed the veggie burger was for you.” Because it sure as hell wasn’t for Shaw.

“Thanks,” Root smiled as she grabbed the bag.

“So you want to tell me what you’re up to?”

“Why do I have to be up to anything?”

Shaw glared at her.

“I was getting everything ready for us to examine Leon Tao’s little party favor.” She nodded towards the doorway. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

“If Tao couldn’t boot that thing up without revealing his position, what makes you think you can?” Shaw asked as she followed Root down a hallway past several closed doors.

Root came to a stop at the end of the hall and tapped the knob of the door. “I can because this room is a faraday cage. No signals in, no signals out.”

“No way for Decima to track us.”

“Exactly.” Root opened the door and waved for Shaw to go in ahead of her.

There was a large green sofa up against the wall directly across from the door. A small desk was tucked into the corner to her right. The laptop they had taken from Tao’s storage locker was the only thing on the desk.

Root stepped in to the room and closed the door behind her with a soft click. “There, the system is engaged.”

“Now what?”

She walked over to the desk and took a seat. Root pat the cover of the closed laptop. “Now you make yourself comfortable on that couch over there while I crack this thing.”

“Why am I even here?” Seems like Root could have done all this on her own and called Shaw in the morning with the details.

Root tilted her head in thought. “Inspiration?”

Shaw shook her head but went over and flopped down on the couch. She was already here. Might as well take a nap.

“Leon Tao wasn’t a complete idiot,” Root announced after about half an hour.

“Debatable.” Shaw stood up and walked over to stand behind Root at the desk.

“No,” Root gestured towards the monitor, “he must have downloaded copies of these files while this computer was still networked to Decima’s servers.” She hit a few keys. “There’s enough dirt here to keep them in hot water with the feds for decades.”

“So how do we get those files to them without tipping Decima off?”

“That will take a bit longer, I’m afraid.”

“How long?”

Root shrugged. “As loathe as I am to admit this, we may need to call in Harry.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big finish, tiny epilogue tomorrow or the next day.

 

Shaw pulled her bike to a stop next to the black one she now recognized as Root’s. She turned off the engine and looked around. The full moon afforded a decent amount of light. From what she could see, Root was nowhere to be found. Outside of the small clearing where she was now parked, was nothing but trees, trees, and more trees. She was sure these were the right coordinates. Root’s bike was here after all. “But where exactly is here?” She wondered aloud.

Shaw hadn’t seen Root for days. Once they had determined that they needed Finch’s expertise in order to safely extract the files from the laptop they had found in Leon Tao’s secret storage locker, things with the case had begun to slow down. At least on Shaw’s end of things.

The nerds had set up shop in another abandoned building, this one in Burnside. Finch had insisted on neutral territory. He and Reese might trust Shaw’s judgement on the matter, but he still didn’t trust Root enough to be alone with her without controlling as many variables as possible. Root had agreed as she wasn’t willing to just hand the laptop over. Oracle had given her this task, and even if she needed some help, she wasn’t about to stop until she had seen it through till the end.

Both Shaw and Reese had planned on hanging around to referee. Well, Reese was going to glower at Root and Shaw was going to eat snacks and try not to be bored to death, but then they had gotten word from Carter. It seemed Dollhouse and some of her boys had taken an entire kindergarten hostage.

The bats had to go to work and hope that their associates would play nice without supervision.

It had taken them days. Dollhouse had had her men scatter the kids throughout the city. They’d finally managed to find the last kid and catch that crazy bitch that evening. They had just finished up with Carter when Shaw had received a message with these coordinates and a time.

“You’re late,” a voice called from the trees.

“Yet I’m here,” Shaw countered. She really wasn’t in the mood.

“I told you twenty-three hundred.” Root stepped into view. She wasn’t wearing her mask, so Shaw could see the rather pronounced pout on her face. Damn woman was acting like she had stood her up for prom or something. “It’s well after.”

Yeah, she could take that one up with Dollhouse. “A bunch of kidnapped kids don’t really care about your cryptic party invitations.” Shaw held up a hand before Root could reply. “It’s handled, they’re home, and I’m here.” She gestured to the trees around them. “Though now would be a good time for you to fill in the details your message was lacking.”

“We need to catch a train.”

“Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re in the middle of the woods.” In the middle of the woods, itself in the middle of the ass end of nowhere to be exact. “No trains.”

“Over there,” Root pointed to the crest of a small hill peeking above the treetops about fifty yards away. She began walking before Shaw could reply.

“Sure nothing like a midnight stroll with a psycho.” When Shaw looked up, she noticed there was a large military tactical bag strapped to Root’s back. That was new. “What’s in the backpack?”

“Party favors.”

“What sort of party are we talking here exactly?” Shaw glanced around. “Because I think the teddy bears cancelled their picnic already.”

Root threw back her head and laughed. She stopped to give Shaw a coy look over her shoulder. “If you’re looking for something to cuddle…”

Shaw kicked her in the ass.

“Rude,” Root chuckled and started walking again. “We figured out why the 25th was circled on Leon Tao’s planner.”

“Wait, that’s today.” With everything going on with the missing kids, Shaw had forgotten.

Root nodded. “Somethings coming.”

“On a train? Way out here?”

“What better way to move something big without anyone noticing?”

“How big?”

“Don’t know yet.” Of course she didn’t.

 

At the top of the hill there was a wooden bridge. Shaw could barely see the outline of its peaked roof in the moonlight. “Here we are.”

“Where’s here? The start of a horror movie?”

“Back in the day this area was coal country,” Root explained. “There were a couple of mines nearby. Business was exceptional given the big city’s big demand for fuel. Settlements sprang up on both sides of this gorge to accommodate all the bodies required to move all that product. This bridge let workers move between each community.”

“So a historical horror movie?”

Root chuckled. “I’ve missed your humor these past few days.”

“Finch not entertaining enough for you?”

“Nothing compares to you, Sweetie.”

The wood creaked loudly under their feet as they began to walk across. Root stopped about midway. The roof was mostly missing in this section. It opened up the side of the structure to what was probably a decent view of the valley beneath them. Now that they were out here, Shaw could barely make out a set of train tracks bisecting the ground below.

“So are we just supposed to stand around braiding each other’s hair or…”

“Don’t be silly. Grab your hair to get your mouth somewhere more interesting sure, but braiding?” She shook her head.

“Did you really just…” There was a faint whistling sound in the distance.

“Ah there’s the train now. There are two fairly sharp turns before the straightaway section underneath us. Any trains have to slow down substantially to remain on course. It’s one of the reasons these tracks aren’t used much anymore.”

Again with the history lessons. “And?”

“We’re going to jump.”

“On to the moving train? From this rickety-ass bridge?”

Root flashed a maniacal grin. “No one ever said this job would be easy.”

“Pretty sure you did.”

“I don’t recall.” Root began to climb up through the broken section of the roof and on to the railing. She turned to look back at Shaw. “Just jump when I say.”

“If I get splattered you’re going to have an actual phantasm on your hands.” She’d haunt her bony ass into eternity.

“You can get on my hands anytime, Sweetie. My hands, my face,” Root shrugged, “whatever you want.”

“You ever going to back up all that talk?” Root was hot, she was good with a gun, two guns actually. Smart. And if she had read her file, then she should know enough not to ask for anything Shaw couldn’t give. It wasn’t the worst prospect for a tumble she had ever had. If she were actually serious, Shaw might be convinced to give it a go.

Besides if they were about to do something this stupid, she was going to take the opportunity to fuck with Root for once.

“Wha…” Root was interrupted by the loud wail of the train’s horn. The wooden bridge began to creek and then shake as the train drew closer.

Shaw climbed up beside her. “We doing this or not?”

Root shook her head as if to clear it. She pulled her hood and mask on before speaking. “When you jump, don’t try to glide. I know that’s what you’re used to but it will not serve you well in this instance.” She had snapped right back into mission mode. “This is a controlled fall.”

“Onto a moving train.”

“Fun right?” She sounded far too pleased with herself. “On my mark…”

Shaw took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

Root held up her hand with three fingers extended. “Three… two… one.”

She didn’t even look to see if Root jumped. As soon as she heard “one,” Shaw leapt from her perch. She felt weightless for a moment before her boots slammed into the metal roof of one of the cars. The shock of impact reverberated through her entire body. The metal gave way under her feet an instant later and Shaw fell into the train compartment below. She crashed into a pile of cardboard boxes.

“Okay, ow.” She couldn’t believe that had actually worked.

“Still alive, Sweetie?” Seemed like Root had made it as well.

Shaw grunted. That really hadn’t been the best idea for a woman with recently bruised ribs. Shaw rolled to her knees and then slowly stood up. She kicked aside a now flattened cardboard box. “What are the odds of us landing in a container full of empty boxes?” She had to shout over the rush of wind pushing through the train car’s new skylight.

“Exactly what She calculated them to be.”

“One of these days that thing is going to glitch and it’s going to be your ass.”

“But not today.”

“How long till someone comes looking for the source of that crashing noise?” Root, who had also stood, tilted her head in thought. “She says based on heat signatures, we’re several cars away from any occupied ones. But in the interest of expediency, we should probably move on to another car.”

Right. “Front or back?”

“Back,” Root nodded to the south end of the train car. “Like I said no heat signatures in these last few cars. Either they’re empty like this one or…”

“They’re exactly what we’re looking for?”

She shrugged. “In the very least we need to clear them.”

Shaw nodded. Made sense to her. They walked to the door on the end of the car. Shaw yanked it open. A blast of air buffered them as the coupler between the cars was exposed. Shaw quickly crossed the small space and eased open the door on the next car. Root swiftly followed.

This car was filled with wooden crates. Most were cubes about waist high. A few were stacked on top of each other. But there were about seven crates scattered across the car that were taller than Root and about three feet wide. Shaw heard a clank behind her. Root had found a crowbar.

“This it?”

“Looks like.” She sauntered over to the nearest of the tall crates.

“What is it?”

“Won’t know for sure until we open it.” Root held the crowbar out to her. “Care to do the honors?”

Shaw swiped the tool from her hand. The seam between the lid and the sides of the box was easy enough to find. She jammed the flat end of the bar into that crease and began to apply steady pressure. There was a loud creak and the nails holding the box closed began to give way. Shaw removed the bar and moved it a bit further down the side and repeated the process.

Finally, the lid fell to the floor with a loud slap. Shaw peered into the open crate. “What the hell?” She looked over at Root, “Computer parts?”

“Servers,” She replied peering into the crate beside Shaw. She brushed her fingertips against the metal equipment housing. “Enough for something big.”

“Like rebooting Brother Eye?”

“I don’t know. But she says we need to open the crates numbered 321, 410, and 509.”

Oh did they? “And do what?”

“Take samples.”

“Right.”

They dutifully went from crate to crate. Shaw would pull them open. She and Root would slide the server rack out from the container. Then the go-bot would tell Root which of the many circuit boards she needed to remove for their “samples.”

Once the last circuit board was safely tucked into a pouch on Root’s belt, she nodded to the doorway leading to the next car. “Ready for round two?”

Shaw rolled her eyes and pushed past her to open the door. There were no crates in the next train car. A massive blue sphere took up the majority of the space. “Please tell me that thing is not active.”

Root let out a shaky breath. “We’re still standing here, so obviously not.”

It was one of Brother Eye’s drones. Shaw knew that Leon Tao had taken pictures of them, but she hadn’t expected to be seeing one this close. The one he had photographed had been clearly damaged, this one looked like it could activate on its own any minute. “How did Martine even get this thing?”

“Not sure, but we certainly can’t let her keep it.”

“What do you propose we do about it?” Sure Shaw could go to town with the crowbar in her hand, but someone was bound to find them before she could do much damage.

Root pulled the mysterious backpack off her shoulder and set it on the floor between them. She opened it and motioned for Shaw to glance inside. There were several bricks wrapped in olive green Mylar.

“No you did not.”

“When you were working for the government…” Root trailed off, Shaw could hear the smile in her voice, “Did they ever let you blow up a train?”

“You jumped from a bridge on to a moving train with a load of C4 strapped to your ass?” Shaw shook her head. “There is no way in hell any competent clinician declared you sane.”

“She calculated the risks. Everything was well within reasonable safety parameters.”

Shaw pointed with the crowbar, “the big blue gumball over there is proof that robots can go insane too.” They were both clearly out of their goddamn minds. Circuits. Whatever.

Root was carefully removing blocks of plastic explosive from the bag. When she had a neat little stack of five, she dug into another compartment in the bag and began pulling out what look to be components for the detonators.

“We plant the charges here and in the car we were just in. Set the timer. Uncouple these last few cars from the rest of the train. Hitch a ride with the engine and its cars till we find a soft place to land.”

“You really think these guys are just going to let us catch a ride back to town after we blow up their murder-bot?”

“I don’t plan on asking politely.”

Shaw smirked. That was more like it. “Let’s get this thing wired up then.”

While Shaw had not in fact, ever blown up a train, she had plenty of experience handling explosives from her days with ARGUS. Between the two of them the delicate job of plastering the drone in C4 was handled quickly and smoothly. Root planted the detonators and then they moved to the car with the server crates.

“A load here and here should do it,” Root pointed to two spots in a diagonal across the space. She set the bag down by her feet.

Shaw took one of the last bricks of C4 from her. “You sure we had enough back there?”

“She seems to think so.”

Given everything else they had done that night; it was good enough of an answer for Shaw.

Root knelt next to the bag. After rummaging around for a moment, she pulled what looked like one of those fitness tracker bands from the bag and slapped it on her wrist. “Once everything is set, I can track the countdown on this.”

“Shouldn’t take long to disconnect the coupler.”

“We’ll set the timer as soon as we’re on the other car then. The detonator is designed so I can do it remote…” Root trailed off.

“What?”

“Get down.” Root lunged and knocked Shaw off her feet at the same time gunshots rang out. Shaw rolled as soon as she hit the floor. She popped up in a crouch behind a crate and looked for the source of the gunfire. Three men were just inside the door on the engine side of the train car. They ran to duck behind the crates for cover, two more swiftly following through the door.

“I think they finally came to check on that crashing noise,” Root groaned from somewhere behind her. She sounded pained.

Before Shaw could ask if she was okay, another round of gunfire rang out. “Now you assholes want to act like real security?” She peaked around the crate again while drawing a batarang from her belt. A shot came from somewhere back and to her left. Root was up.

“You missed that one.”

“Think you can do better?”

The next time Shaw saw the barrel of a gun poking around a crate she threw the batarang. It hit their assailant in the chest. The shock of the blow knocked the guy backwards. He crashed into one of the other men sending him back out through the door. There was a scream.

“Oops.”

“Someone’s going to get a scolding.”

“Shut up and make yourself useful.”

Root didn’t reply with words. Instead she began popping off rounds in rapid succession. Using the distraction of the covering fire, Shaw scrambled between crates to the far wall. She crept alongside as the men returned fire.

The idiots were so focused on Root that they didn’t notice her approach. She had already taken one down. Shaw could see a pair of legs sticking out on the floor near one of the crates. Three to go.

She pulled another batarang from her belt. When Root stopped firing she threw it to the other side of the car. When it hit the wall with a clank, the remaining men all turned in that direction. Shaw leapt from her hiding place and put the closest man into a choke hold. She pulled him back behind her stack of crates before the others turned again. They shouted when they realized their companion was missing, but Root began shooting again before they could move towards Shaw.

When Shaw was sure her guy was out she let him drop to the floor. Then she pulled a flashbang from her belt. “Root down!” She shouted before lobbing it over the crate.

She counted in her head. The device went off. Shaw sprang from her cover. The closest man partially turned toward her with his gun raised. She knocked his arm up and away from her just as he fired a shot. It went wide and into the ceiling. She struck him in the throat. He dropped his gun. She hit him again in the temple. He dropped like a stone.

Shaw darted towards another one of the tall crates. She ducked behind it and searched for the other man. There was a shot. Then a thud as the last man fell to the floor. Shaw turned to see Root walking towards them holding her still smoking gun. The grey of her cloak was streaked with red. Shaw’s eyes narrowed. A lot of red.

Had Root been bleeding the entire time? “Where are you hit?”

“Shoulder,” Root grunted. “Good thing for you I’m ambidextrous huh?”

Shaw quickly moved to check to make sure all of the men were completely out. “Sit down.”

“Oh I love it when you take that tone.”

Once she was sure each of the men were unconscious and zip tied, she returned to Root’s side. Shaw pulled a canister of liquid bandage from her belt. “You really think this is the best time to flirt?”

“If it keeps my mind off the burning metal currently grinding against my scapula?” Root groaned as Shaw pressed on the wound. “You bet your magnificent ass it is.”

“This is going to hurt.” A lot. Shaw had developed it in the lab herself. And since it wasn’t exactly on the books research, she had also tested the product on herself. She had first-hand knowledge of exactly how unpleasant an experience Root was in for. Frankly, the stuff was almost worse than a bullet but it would keep Root from bleeding out.

“You sure know how to show a gal a good time. Before we get started, you should know that my safe word is commodore.”

Shaw rolled her eyes as she pressed the nozzle of the canister against the wound and depressed the trigger. To Root’s credit, she didn’t cry out. Shaw counted to ten in her head and then pulled the canister away. “That will keep you stable until I can do better.”

“Was it good for you too?” Root purred.

Shaw shook her head. “Come on, horndog. Job’s not done yet.” She helped Root to her feet.

“I’ll be fine.” She took a half a step and then stopped. She tilted her head. “More men are coming. They’re three cars away. Get the bag.”

Shaw went and grabbed it from where they had left it by one of the crates and handed it to her. “We have some C4 left. I suppose I could blow the connector between cars.”

“No time for that. But you will get to play with fire.” Root reached into the bag and pulled out a hand grenade.

“You been holding out on me?”

“Just keeping all our options open.”

Shaw took the explosive from her hand. “Stay here, I’ve got this.”

“I have no doubt.”

She ran back to the car they had landed in. The door on the opposite side was still closed. She quickly ran the length of the car to it and cracked it open. The door to the next car was still closed but she could faintly hear shouting over the steady clack of the train’s wheels.

Shaw waited until the door slid open. The first man that appeared shouted when he saw her and brought up his gun. She pulled the pin and lobbed the grenade at him. The man ducked, only realizing that something had been thrown, not what the object actually was. The grenade sailed past him and into the other car. Shaw slammed the door to her car shut and braced herself against the wall.

There was a loud boom. The train lurched. The floor under her feet shifted. The entire car was shaking, violently. Lights flickered on and off. For a moment Shaw thought it was going to go off the rails. The breaks screeched. But after a moment the shaking stopped and the train continued onward.

“Sorry Finch.” She was bound to get a lecture for that one once he caught wind of it.

Of course she and Root still had to make it off this train alive, before anyone could lecture her about blowing up scumbags trying to kill her. She stood and started to make her way back to the other car to grab Root. It would take any survivors a bit to work through what was left of the car ahead of this one. She had bought them a little time. But not much.

Root was sitting on an overturned crate when Shaw reached her. She had removed her hood and mask. She looked sweaty and paler than normal. All the trashing about the train had just done obviously aggravated her wound, but it looked like her bandage had held. “Do you want the good news or the bad news?”

What now? “Bad I guess.”

“One of those idiots from before shot the timer.”

Crap. “And the good?”

She held up her arm so Shaw could see the small screen on her wrist. “We still have four minutes to get off of this train.”

“Can’t we just disconnect it?”

“We’re going to be in a pretty heavily occupied area soon.” Root shook her head. “Too much collateral damage. We either blow this thing now or let Decima have it.”

That wasn’t an option. If that drone somehow activated in the middle of the city? Hundreds of people could get hurt. And that was the best case scenario where these people only set it loose, who knows how many more could be effected if Decima used this drone as a way to start up their own AI. “Okay, then I guess it’s time to leave.” She helped Root to stand.

“The car we landed in...”

“There was a cargo door,” Shaw nodded. “Had already thought of that.” The two of them made their way back to the car with all the boxes.

“I think we’re going to have to jump again, Sweetie.”

Shaw grabbed the handle of the sliding door on the side of the train car and jerked it open. “Can you do this?” The landing was going to hurt like hell with that arm.

“Not much choice, I’m afraid.”

“Okay on three. One… Two...” Before Shaw could say three, her comm system crackled to life.

“You ladies need a lift?”

“What?”

Suddenly there was a light on their position. Shaw looked up. The batwing was above them, keeping pace with the train. “Lurch, for once I am glad to see you.”

“Thank Batwoman, if it was just you, I might have ignored Oracle’s message.”

“What was that about him warming up to you?” Shaw snorted.

“It’s a work in progress.”

“Dropping a line.” A compartment opened on the underside of the small plane, and a cable shot down towards them.

Shaw grabbed the line with one arm. She looped it around her waist and used the hardware on the end to secure it to her utility belt. She then wrapped her other arm around Root’s waist. She in turn put her good arm around Shaw’s neck. “You know a gal could get used to this.”

“Stop talking before I decide to drop you.” With that, Shaw jumped. The cable pulled taught as they swung free from the train.

Root counted down the seconds on the timer on her wrist. “We’ve got about a minute to get clear.”

“Then hold on,” John grumbled as the plane began to accelerate.

“Gladly,” Root whispered and squeezed Shaw tighter.

Two days later Shaw and Reese were going over everything with Finch at the library.

“And you haven’t heard from Root?”

“Not since I patched her up at my place.” She’d managed to dig the bullet out of Root’s shoulder with little trouble. She’d be out of action for a bit until that healed up but she’d regain full use of her arm. Shaw had told her as much before offering her guest room for the evening.

Root had batted her eyes. “I was hoping to experience more of your bedside manner.”

“Maybe when you don’t have massive amounts of pain killers in your system.”

“Maybe?” Root had grinned. Shaw couldn’t tell if the dopey expression on her face was from the amount of literal dope in her system or whatever pervy thing was running through her brain at the prospect of a maybe.

Root had been gone by the time Shaw had woken up. She almost would have thought the woman hadn’t been there at all, if not for the pile of bloody gauze in her bathroom trash can. The woman was like the damn smoke she liked to lob before her grand entrances back in her crazier days. Ephemeral. Shaw had even gone by the clock tower last night. The place was dark and suspiciously quiet.

“I’m sure she’ll turn up,” Finch begrudgingly allowed.

“Like a bad penny,” Reese agreed.

“You’ve been hanging around Dent too much again.”

Reese ignored that little jibe. He turned to Finch, “Do we think the machine is going to continue working with her?”

Shaw answered before he could, “why screw with a working formula?”

“It’s become clear to me that I have a limited understanding of what the machine is capable of now.” Finch reached up and adjusted his glasses. “What I do know is that it doesn’t appear that Root altered any of its code.”

Shaw scoffed. She had been trying to tell him that.

“So it really did decide to go solo all on its own?”

“It appears so, Mr. Reese. In the very least, in this instance, it seemed Oracle’s intervention was necessary.”

He clenched his jaw. “Just not soon enough for Leon.”

“We still don’t have any proof that Martine Rousseau was the one that ordered the hit on Tao though.” Shaw hated to think she’d get away with it. Sure Leon Tao was a crook, but he wasn’t a bad guy all things considered. He deserved some justice.

“Sadly, I doubt you ever shall Ms. Shaw,” Finch hummed. “Still the information you provided the press and the governmental attention it generated should slow Decima’s plans down considerably. Whatever they may be.”

“That was more Root and your robot.” Before they had made it back to Gotham, GNN had already been running coverage of the breaking news of the train explosion not far from the city. Not long after someone let it slip that stolen government tech had been on board. By the morning hi-res copies of some of Leon Tao’s best storage locker candids had somehow been delivered by currier to several news outlets. 

“Indeed.” He looked rather uncomfortable with that thought.

“If her backers are as serious a player as you say, they may get back at Martine for screwing up in worse ways than any court could.” Martine hadn’t been on the train that night. In fact, several witnesses could place her at her usual table at the Iceberg Lounge from mid-evening until close.

Whether in hindsight, that had been her best move remained to be seen. Anyone Martine would answer to was probably ten times more ruthless than she was. Add that Martine had managed to lose their stolen tech and bring the government down on their heads all in one night? Shaw smirked. There might be a silver lining to this whole thing after all. “You’re always a ray of sunshine, John.”

“But was Martine Rousseau working at the direction of someone within the company, or for someone else entirely?”

Shaw shrugged, “Your guess is as good as mine on that one.”

“A troubling sentiment on several levels,” Finch frowned. “As is, we should all keep a wary eye on Decima Technologies.” With a few keystrokes the monitor closest to Shaw flared to life. A satellite image of the mangled train tracks appeared. They could see several military-issue vehicles parked along the tracks. “It appears ARGUS is more than capable of handling the cleanup for now.”

“Amanda Waller getting involved doesn’t exactly make me feel better about the situation,” Reese grumbled.

“Better the devil we know, Mr. Reese.”

“We still don’t know which devil was pulling Martine’s strings.”

“I fear we shall discover that information sooner rather than later, Ms. Shaw.” Finch took a sip of his tea. A red light flashed across one of his screens. He quickly spun in his chair and began typing. “For now it appears that the police require some assistance. It seems the Royal Flush Gang has made a resurgence.”

Shaw grinned at Reese. “First one to a full house gets dinner?”

“As long as you’re springing for something top shelf to go with my meal,” He smirked.

“Please,” Shaw scoffed as they started towards the stairs so they could get to the gear lockers. “You do recall how I like my steak, right?”

“Mooing.”

“Can we not bet on the distress calls?” Finch called after them. “It’s unseemly.”

“We’ll bring you back a doggie bag, Finch.”


End file.
